


Behind the Mask, A Mad Man

by Sonko



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Abuse, Angst and Fluff, As you can see it's bad, Asylum, Black Hat tries to understand humans, Corruption, Cult-ish??, Demencia and 5.0.5 are blessings to this earth!!, Demonic summoning, ESPECIALLY FLUG, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, HE'S TRYING DAMMIT, Heroes are fake, M/M, OCs because plot, Oh and everyone is gay, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Right now grab a tissue box, Suicide Attempt, The government is involved (surprise surprise), Villains aren't born, and fails, because i don't think this counts as a crossover, heavy references to Alice in Wonderland, i knew i was forgetting more tags, more tags if need be, oh and now illustrations, supernatural shit, there will be smut but that's way later, yup
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-11-08 18:13:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11087184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonko/pseuds/Sonko
Summary: What you may see is a brown paper bag. For Dr. Flug, it's a mask.Just like Flug, there are reasons why people wear masks.





	1. Letters

**Author's Note:**

> Okay first of, I don't know what to say except that I had the urge to write this?? I am deep in this fandom already and at first I laughed at Flug's paper bag head because that's always funny. But eventually, I had dark theories and backstory ideas.
> 
> And here we are! This is what happens when you watch let's plays of Outlast 2, Injustice 2, and Alice: Madness Returns.
> 
> Learn from my mistakes ppl.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy and let me know if there are any written mistakes!

_..._

 

_Alice is mad._

_Alice is mad._

_She talks, she cries, and screams._

_She’s made her own little wonderland_

_Out of broken dreams._

_She’s caged her pride,_

_She swallows the lies,_

_Yet fire rages her soul._

_But soon it goes out,_

_And forever she sleeps_

_Deep in the rabbit hole._

 

...

 

Flug paces back and forth across the hall, frantic and in near panic mode.

Oh who’s he kidding, he’s been panicking since way before he dragged his feet over here. Here, being Black Hat’s front door to his office.

He’s been panicking since he received a letter last night and had been worrying over how he’d be able to explain it to his boss. He couldn’t get a wink of sleep because of it, not that he ever really slept much since he began working here.

So what was the fuss? Were they in debt? Were they about to be evicted? The answer to both of those is no. Actually, the contents of this letter are… a bit more complicated. It had nothing to do with the company or finance in any way. It was actually something more personal and something Flug cannot ignore. The only problem is whether or not his boss would understand.

“No… I told myself I would do this… and I will. It’s only right that I try, a-at least…” He tries building up his confidence by muttering this to himself. Resolutely, he faces the door. He raises a fist, about to knock on the wood.

He’s going to knock on this door. If allowed, he’ll enter inside. And talk to his boss. His very intimidating boss, who may likely be drowning in paperwork, not in the mood for anything coming out of Flug’s mouth that’s not related to either work, his success in completing a new gizmo, or new project ideas that may bring in sales…

Flug’s fist trembles in the air, mere inches close to the door. Eventually the fist loosens, the arm falls, and he goes right back to pacing.

What was he thinking? He can’t do this! He’ll never agree to it anyway so what’s the point?

Nearby, watching the timid scientist’s actions was Demencia. Three minutes have passed as Flug continues to pace and as she silently watches.

Her expression is rare this time. Instead of her usual mischief face-splitting grin, her mouth was a thin line, eyes focused on Flug intently. This is the exact same picture she saw him in last year. It was the exact same day as this one. With the same letter. Not the exact same, but similar.

Back then, she didn’t know the situation well enough, but she picked up on how different Flug was when she’d been idly passing through and caught him at this very spot. When Flug left Black Hat’s office door, for some reason deciding not talk to him, Demencia followed him all the way to his lab/room. At the time, demand was surprisingly high, so schedules were tight and the amount of work in Flug’s hands may have required about more than a dozen scientists. He was able to finish it all in the end and even managed to get praise (though small) from the ever diabolical Black Hat.

But before that however, in that moment where she followed Flug to his lab room, she found him sitting at a corner, huddled in a fetal position, crying, letter crumpled in a tight fist.

The sight was so new to her. He’s dealt with intense physical pain before and that only got him a few tears. The pain she saw in Flug then was not at all physical, but was probably ten times as worse than any injury he has faced under Black Hat Co.

And she hated it. She realized she hated seeing him cry. She hated whatever it was that made him cry like that. So she did the reasonable thing.

Without a word, her feet moved quickly, her steps startling Flug, and before he could utter a word or try to make himself look like he hasn’t been crying, she sat next to him and pulled him into her arms.

At first the act shocked him. She couldn’t blame him. She’s never done this before. She had vague memories of being hugged in a similar fashion whenever she cried too. She was little then but she couldn’t think of anything else that could help comfort Flug. So she just relied on her memories. Gentle pats, soft shooshes, soothing hums. Eventually, Flug gave into her, collecting more of her warmth as his sobs intensified, paper bag soaked from the salty tears. The girl’s shirt fell victim to them too, but neither of them cared. They stayed like that for a while until Flug calmed down and no longer had more tears to shed.

Silently, he stood and went back to work, despite looking like a miserable wreck and needed rest, and Dementia just... couldn’t leave him. She felt the need to stay with him, so she did. She even offered to help, even if it were menial tasks, and Flug oddly accepted. The day was weird, but not an unwelcome one as the two worked together. Later, Demencia found the crumpled letter left abandoned on the messy floor and picked it up to return it to Flug.

She didn’t tell him that she’s read it and Flug didn’t ask, knowing she did.

She didn’t know much (or anything at all) about Flug’s history and chose not to pry.

But she did ask who Alice was to him and if Demencia had to guess the expression the scientist wore under the brown paper bag he always wears, it would be a sad, sorrowful smile.

She was family, he answered her. And Demencia understood.

That was a year ago and now another opportunity is given for Flug. There are no tight schedules this time nor are there high demands for products. The days are relatively slow, slower than they’ve ever been.

Yet Flug still hesitates to speak with Black Hat. Not that she can’t see the reason why, the demon literally breathes down the poor man’s neck 24/7 because though he never admits it, the scientist is sort of a lifeline to the corporation. Needless to say, nothing could get done without Dr. Flug unless Black Hat found a replacement scientist. Demencia had a feeling the demon could if he wanted to. He just never did.

But since that very first letter, Demencia’s learned more about Dr. Flug, that he’s more than just a meek scientist working under his terrifying inhuman boss.

Flug had a family. And a year ago, that family needed him, but he was unable to be there for them. It took Demencia months of silent comforting to pull him out of that guilt trip, had made visits to his lab religiously in fear that he might break down again. 5.0.5 had been a blessing, because though he didn’t know what was going on, he baked them all sorts of pastries nearly every day with cute encouraging quotes written in frosting. It definitely helped the healing process and things went steady soon after. Things were almost normal again.

Almost.

But she doesn’t want a repeat of it. It’ll hurt just as much. And it’s not like Black Hat remained ignorant when it all happened. He always watched from afar, eyes like hot lasers on her, 5.0.5, but mostly on Flug. He only stepped in once, and unfortunately it was during one of Flug’s breakdown moments… and it was… a horrible time for everyone. No one spoke to each other for days.

She shakes her head, getting rid of those memories. No, she didn’t want that to happen again either. And she knew, she saw a tiny crack through Black Hat’s demeanor once, that he too didn’t want it to happen again.

So he’d understand, despite whatever Flug’s thinking at the moment.

It’s decided then.

With no sound in her footsteps, she snuck behind pacing Flug and brings him in a one-arm chokehold. Flug yelped and tried to break free, harshly whispering to let him go. She doesn’t. Instead to his horror, she knocks on the door, five times, each one so loud there’s no way Black Hat could not hear it. Flug’s blood goes cold when the double doors open instantly and Demencia drags him inside. He lets her, because at this point there’s no turning back.

Part of him is grateful to have her as his support. On the other hand, he deeply dreads how this conversation will go.

...

As he suspected, Black Hat was at his desk doing paperwork. Busy. He knew he came at a wrong time. But it’s far too late.

The villainous headmaster looks up from his stacks of papers, about to say something, but stops, a small hint of surprise on his dark features. Flug assumes that it’s probably because of the sight of him and Dementia. And Demencia’s face. If she’s not smiling, then it’s a big indicator that something’s up, especially if it involves Flug. A big surprise to everyone is that the girl as conquered the role as big sister towards the scientist, even though she’s a few years younger than him.

Black Hat read the signs quickly and mentally squashed the words he was about to say and instead went with,

“What is it?”

His tone was even. Hard and expectant, yet also… cautious.

It was weird and Flug decided that he didn’t want to do this, but he has to. He’s gotten this far and it’ll only rise his boss’s anger if he bailed or lied (since he’s not at all a good liar). He slowly releases from Dementia’s hold, she still stuck close so that was somewhat comforting, and he took even breaths.

Demencia was the only person who knew and that’s only because she discreetly read the first letter given to him. He told her about the second letter last night and it was easy because he didn’t have to say much.

In this case however, getting Black Hat to accept his request would require filling him in on the details as well. Something he’s not looking forward to because it’s too painful for him to talk about.

“U-Um…”

He’s quite surprised that Black Hat hasn’t rushed him to get on with it. He just sat quietly, not saying a word. Still, it’s best not to waste his time.

“I-I uhh…” Come on. Just say it! “I r-received a letter from… my family. T-T-They’re not exactly my family, b-blood-related wise, b-but I was… raised there, w-with them, for most of my life and… um… one of them… died.”

His eyes were on the floor then. He couldn’t risk looking at Black Hat. It’ll be too hard to continue.

“I was… really close to her. She was like a mother and a sister… She died last year a-and then, I received a letter to attend her funeral… but I couldn’t go. I couldn’t because I knew I was needed here… w-w-when everything was a rush. N-Now, they’re doing a one year anniversary of her passing and… w-well… I-”

“How long?”

That made Flug’s bag head snap up to face him finally. The demon’s expression was hard to read. Did he hear him right? He wasn’t sure.

Black Hat picked up his confusion and sighed. “How long will you be gone?”

…Wait. Is he actually letting him go? No… no there’s a reason why he asked that first. It’s to see if the amount of time will be too long to accept.

“U-Umm… a-a-a c-couple days or so?”

Black Hat’s eyes narrows. Flug hears the growl. He trembles. Oh no. Was that too long of a visi-

“Flug…” he says menacingly. “Don’t lie to me. **How. Long.** ”

Shit. Shit! Why did he lie? He knew Black Hat could easily see through it! He’s only made this worse!

“T-Three weeks Sir!” He says quickly, eyes to the floor again. There was pause. It was long. It was suffocating.

When did the room get so cold? His eyes are blurry. He couldn’t breathe. He wants to leave. This was a bad idea.

Warm. Something warm covers his hand. Reality registers. Someone’s holding his hand.

Demencia. She’s here. That’s right. She’s here. She’s supporting him. She’s warm. She cares.

“Are you not listening Flug?”

He snaps up again, like he’d just woken from a bad dream. The hand in his squeezes tighter.

“S-Sir?”

Black Hat was still unreadable, but his face scrunched up a little, as if to hold something in. He repeats himself.

“I said you may go.”

Flug lost his voice, or at least he didn’t know what to say. Now he was sure his mind was playing tricks on him, but the words were loud and clear.

He opens his mouth, but the demon raises a hand up, ordering silence. The scientist does so.

“I think you’ve said enough. Now go. Pack your stuff and let me get back to work.”

For some reason, part of Flug feels guilty now. Three weeks is quite long and who else would fill in for him while he’s gone? His thoughts were interrupted by a jab to his side. He rubs the aching spot and eyes Demencia. She’s wearing her normal grin.

“Well, why are you still standing around? Go. Go!”

She pushes him to the door. Flug manages to at least voice his thanks to Black Hat before he was pushed to the halls. Black Hat’s grumbles were illegible and that was all he could pick up before Demencia slams the door to his face. He stands outside for about a minute.

That… actually happened.

He’s allowed to go.

He can go see them again. It had been… forever. He never got time to visit them since moving away, since getting this job. And it’s sad (really sad) that he may not ever get to see _her_ face again, but her gravestone will have to make up for it.  

He felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He hadn’t felt this good in a while. He smiles and makes a break for his room, nearly crashing in to 5.0.5 in the process. He shouts his apologies but doesn’t stop running. The bear tilts his head, cleaning utensils in both paws. Sensing positive vibes from Flug, he decides not to worry and carries on with his business.

...

Meanwhile in the office, Black Hat rubs his face. The best way to describe his mood now is… stressed. He hasn’t felt this stressed since…

He doesn’t get it. When did things become so complicated with Flug?

He blames that day. That horrid, horrid day. It was that day his whole perspective on Flug changed. The young man’s actions, his words,

His face,

The way he… _snapped._

It’s been months, close to a year, yet the memory’s still fresh. He remembers 5.0.5 pinning Flug down, remembers Demencia’s sobs as she tried to calm him, he remembers Flugs face. It’s hard not to since those eyes were on him the entire time he was pinned.

Those eyes were lifeless yet said so many things, things Black Hat could not understand. But he knew he made a mistake somewhere. No. His mistake was removing the paper bag out of spite. He only wanted answers to Flugs behavior and he went too far.

He saw too much.

He… _they_ saw the Flug none of them knew.

He hated to admit it, but Black Hat didn’t know how to act around him since that day. He felt like he was facing a stranger. A stranger he was forced to learn and get to know better and a stranger who was unpredictable. They all felt that way with each other and it was days later they made a silent agreement.

Forget it. Put it behind us. Pretend it never happened. And it worked.

Sort of, because the memory is hard to forget, but it’s so easy to pretend.

His thoughts were shattered when arms flew around his neck, into a tight hug. On any normal occasion, he would shove the annoying girl off, but things weren’t normal anymore, no matter how hard one would try to make it normal. Plus he’s tired.

He instead voices his displeasure by growling. It wasn’t threatening. It was letting her know that he’s not pleased but is too lazy to do anything about it.

“Thanks for that Boss.” Her voice was sincere. He growls again.

That seems to be is answer for everything now. Pathetic.

Demencia giggles. “You sound like a cat. Meow~”

He groans and rubs his face again. He can’t work like this. “Is there something you want?”

There was a pause from her and Black Hat feels she might remain that way and/or continue to annoy him, ignoring the question entirely.

“Her name is Alice,” she finally says.

“Alice?”

“Yup.”

The demon raises a brow. Alice? Who the hell is…

Oh.

“I see,” he responds evenly. “And why did you feel it necessary to tell me this?”

She shrugs.

The room goes silent again. But a question burns at the back of his mind. And for once, he’s afraid to ask.

“What… else do you know?”

He hears her hum thoughtfully. “Well as of right now, we’re on the same page.”

In other words, she knows just as much as he. Nothing. He doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or pissed.


	2. My Name Is...

.

.

...

A child, no older than ten, wakes in a cold dark room. Looking around, he sees the room is small, so small the bed he was in takes up almost half the space. Through the dark, he only spots one window attached to the only door in the room. The tiny window revealed yellow light but it wasn’t enough to combat the suffocating darkness.

He didn’t like it here. Where is he? How long had he been here? He tries to remember.

Not long ago, he was with his mother. They just came from a movie and were taking a bus home. Something happened.

He remembers pain, heat, and broken glass.

He remembers bodies. He remembers his mother’s body, ways away from the other bodies… but she had no face.

Why did she have no face?

The child tries desperately to recall what had occurred at that moment, but the mental image gets blocked by the appearance of a person. The scene instantly changes from the highway of the accident to the questioning room he realized he had been in only hours ago. The person sits across from him in a round table.

Once upon a time, the child would always be prideful of the action figures he collected, of the posters all over his bedroom walls, all of this very person. He was his hero.

So why… looking at him now, is he so afraid of him?

The child is thrown back to reality as white hot pain blossoms. He reached a hand up, gently touching where the pain is most intense. The right side of his face is covered in heavy gauze tape. And part of his nose feels… flat over the tape, almost nonexistent. He blinks. That’s odd. He didn’t have this injury at the accident. He got out alive with only scratches and bruises.

The memory suddenly floods back. Tears burst in the child’s one functioning eye. He curls into the too thin blankets and weeps silently. He felt betrayed. He felt lied too. Heroes aren’t supposed to lie. They aren’t supposed to do these things. They’re supposed to be good right?

Right?

_“Don’t misunderstand. I’m only punishing you. I’m punishing you because you let your mom die. You let all those people die. Just so you could stay alive.”_

_“With this, they will forgive you. She will forgive you.”_

_“You don’t want to be blamed for their pain right? You want to be forgiven, don’t you?”_

The child clutches his head, despite bringing more pain to his tender flesh. He wanted the images to stop. Why won’t they go away? He curls in further, head buried to his knees as he sobs harder.

The door to his room opens and the yellow light intensifies in a way that’s unfamiliar and uncomfortable. A silhouette of a person stands in front of the light and steps into the room. Fearing the silhouette might be the man who was once his hero, the boy cowers to the corner wall and makes himself small as possible. He shuts his eyes, hoping this was all just a terrible dream and he’d soon wake to see his mother’s worried eyes as she picks him up, holds him and protects him from all the evil monsters haunting him in his mind.

It never happens.

“Hello? H-Hey kid, it’s alright…”

The voice of this person is different. The child, still in tears, dares to look up from his fetal position.

He sees a young man. He wore a lab coat and wore thick glasses. His brown hair was combed back neatly. He looked like a professor or a doctor of some sort.

The child finds this okay. As long as he wasn’t _him_. He tries to calm his sobs.

“My god you look like shit,” the man says and realizes too late that he cursed in front of a child. “M-My bad! I’m… still not used to being around kids. And looking after them. But that somehow became my job because I’m still an intern… Please don’t mention this to your father.”

The child blinks silently, confusion evident. His father? His mom rarely talks about him. Heck he can’t even remember his face. All he knows is that he runs some sort of facility.

The young man, in a squat position a short distance away from the child’s bed, begins to sweat at the boy’s silence. And it’s funny since his facial features also took on a hard edge, similar to a tough guy. He looks pretty strong too.

The boy can understand. He’s just trying to do his job. He doesn’t want to get in trouble. So he wipes the last remains of his tears and answers him.

“I won’t tell mister.”

The man sighs in relief. “Thanks kid.” He shifts and relaxes in a cross-legged position on the floor. “I know you’ve gone through a lot, with the accident and all. That’s where you got that injury right?”

The child tenses up, like ice cold water was dumped on him. He wanted to say no, but his memory plays a reminder given to him.

_“I would like this kept between us at all costs okay kid? The public won’t understand, so if I find you mouthing off about this to anyone…”_

“Yes. F-F-From the accident,” he sputters quickly. He forces down the bile in his throat.

“Damnit. Sorry I should’ve known you’re still mentally recovering from that.” The man pauses. He’s cursed again. “Fuck, sorry- no wait! That was wrong! Erase that! I mean… AAGH!”

He covers his face. “I’m so bad at this…”

The man’s actions brought a laugh out of the small child. For the first time since he’s woken, the boy felt the urge to smile.

“You’re funny mister.”

At that the man rubs the back his neck, ashamed and embarrassed. “A-Anyway, How about we start over? You cool with that?”

“Okay.”

“Cool. The name’s Donavan. Donavan May. Or Don is fine. Yes I want you to call me by my first name. Mr. May is too humiliating.”

The boy nods. “Okay Don. My name is Adam. Adam Vivas!”

“Nice name Adam. Great. Now that we got that out the way, I’m sure you got questions. So feel free to ask and I’ll try to answer them.”

“Okay. So… where am I?”

“You know what an asylum is?”

Adam thinks. The word is unfamiliar to him. He shakes his head.

“Okay, well it’s sort of like a hospital, but we treat special patients with rare and uncommon problems. You get me so far?”

“I guess.”

Donavan nods. “You are in one of the rooms where we keep our patients. This section’s mostly empty though, occupied by two brats and myself as well. And I’m sure you know your father’s the head honcho of this facility.”

“I know he’s a head of something. I never knew he was a doctor.”

“What do you know about him?”

“That he and my mom divorced.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

Silence stretched between them.

“Where is my dad anyway?” Adam asks.

Donavan turns his head away, looking apologetic.

“Busy.”

“Oh…”

The silence stretches further.

“Um, also…” Donavan starts, hesitant. “I know this is probably still a touchy subject for you… but I was told by your father to let you know… about your mother’s funeral. It’ll be held in a few days… I’m so sorry.”

Hearing those words felt like a stab to the chest, straight through his heart, till it travels out the other side of his body.

He and his mother never had much. Adam’s mom provided as much as she could on her own. And Adam tries to help in any way he could, even though he’d be considered far too young to be faced with such adult things. Yet the two made it work and ever since, they’ve lived happily together.

It’s hard to believe that now… she’s gone.

She’ll never come back. He’ll never see her again.

He’ll never again see her bright smile and hazel eyes. He’ll never again hear her awful puns. They’ll never have late-night blueberry pancakes as they huddle close together and watch their favorite marathons. Wasn’t he going to participate in the school science fair before all this happened? His mother would always tell him that he’s her cute little Brainiac. She was so embarrassing…

Tears flood the child’s eye again. Everything’s just so wrong. So very, very wrong. He hugs himself tightly, wanting to hide from the world. He wants to wake up from this cruel nightmare.

Little Adam starts to cry again, silently mourning the loss of his dear mother. The bed creaks beside him and dips from the added weight. Slowly and gently, an arm comes around the small broken child.

Donavan doesn’t say anything, because no words can sugarcoat the authenticity of what this child has gone through. If this job has taught him anything, that lesson shall forever remain engraved in his mind.

.

.

…

It was odd sleeping for more than one hour and Flug had always made himself believe that work is the reason he rarely gets such a luxury.

Waking up to dry tear stains, he’s forced to remember the real reason. Sleep makes him think, makes him think about the past. Silence also makes him think. So long as there’s noise, as long as he’s always doing _something_ , he won’t get to think about those things.

That will always be something he’s grateful for working in Black Hat Industries.

Sitting up, he rubs his face. He tenses when fingers meet scarred flesh. Lumpy. Singed. _Hideous_. He removes his hand quickly. His bag must’ve fallen during his sleep. He scrambles for it and upon finding it among the blankets, he covers his head with it. The paper bag gave of a safe and secure feeling which made him relax. He sighs.

This was honestly stupid in his opinion. He never felt the fear, the need to cover his face, not while he was home at least. There, he didn’t care. Beyond home was different though. For some reason, he felt the fear of being exposed, that the people around him will see _everything_. They’ll see everything he’s done, and they’ll turn away in disgust.

He was lucky. He was very lucky that day. The moment Black Hat tore off the bag, Flug thought it would literally be the end. And he wanted it. He remembered wanting everything to end. He yelled that to his boss’s face repeatedly, and probably yelled other things too, before 5.0.5 pinned him down.

Flug was pretty sure he had scared his boss and that was just insane to think about.

In the end though, everyone still wanted to be around him. They wanted to carry on like it never happened. Flug couldn’t understand the reason why.

The scientist looks over at his nightstand clock. Barely three in the morning. Likely, everyone is still sleeping (with Black Hat he is never sure) so he figured he could use the time to wash up before he leaves for three weeks. Again, he could hardly believe he was given the okay to go.

He gets out of bed and treks from the lab room and travels quietly up the stairs to the second floor. He adjusts his goggles, activating the night vision feature as he maneuvers through the dark hallways and comes across a curious door opened a tiny crack, light emanating from within. Flug freezes.

There are lots of doors in this manor he’s unfamiliar with and that happens to be one of them. Plus, the only person other than himself who would be up at this godforsaken hour would be none other than the infamous Black Hat.

Quietly as possible, he tries stepping past the door. His old room is only down another hall. He can make it.

The door opens in front of him and light hits oppressively. Flug quickly turns off his night vision, blinking profusely to ebb the ache.

Why is he always so unlucky?

“Flug,” came the voice of his boss. In milliseconds, the light to the mysterious room turns off and the door slams shut. Black Hat stands in front of it. “Shouldn’t you still be sleeping?”

The scientist blinks. Something seems… off. Black Hat hasn’t moved from his spot in front of the door.

“Are… you okay Sir?” He knows he’s taking a huge risk by asking that, because Black Hat is _always_ at his best. That’s what he wants everyone to believe anyway. Be it his origins or the way he grew up, everyone has to have a weakness, no matter who or what they are.

Turned out, asking that question was indeed a mistake, for his face twisted to a snarl as he leaned in close to the inventor’s face.

“Do I look okay to you…”

Flug fights down a whimper, cowering under the heated gaze.

“Y-Y-You look flawless! Flawless as always, S-Sir!”

Black Hat stares at him for a moment longer before finally giving the poor man breathing space. “Good. Now answer my question. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I-I um… I couldn’t.” Flug continues quickly before his boss could ask why. “I-I was about to shower… and d-double check my things. I want to at least take some projects with me… So anyway, I’m j-just gonna go do that, Sir.”

He moves away. He only made a step before a clawed hand grabs his shoulder, halting him. The claws didn’t puncture his clothes nor penetrate his skin. The act was rough, but not as a violent as Flug would’ve expected.

“Do you remember the day I hired you?”

Flug blinks in astonishment. Of all the questions, never did he think his boss would ask this. He wanted to turn and face him, to try to read where this was going, but the clawed hand kept him in place. So the only thing he could do was answer.

“Yes.”

“Then do you remember what I asked, after looking at your resume?”

What… did Black Hat ask him? He doesn’t remember. Where is all of this going?!

“I’m sorry Sir. I can’t recall.”

“I asked for your name.”

Flugs heart stopped for a moment, and it felt like he was being punched in the gut multiple times. Then, the claws on his shoulder gripped tighter.

“And do you remember your answer?”

Yes. He remembers now. “I said I didn’t have one.”

“And why is that?”

In the interview years back, Black Hat didn’t ask why. He hardly cared then. All he cared about was Dr. Flug’s skills, his mind running a mile a minute at all the profit he would make if he took the boy under his wing. Nothing else mattered.

Black Hat’s question comes from the now. Now, for some reason, he wants to know why.

At the very least, Flug could answer the question easily.

“I could hardly call it my real name anymore. It’s no longer important to me.”

There was silence. It either meant Black Hat demands more or he’s silently taking it in.

“…I see.” Is what he says. “That’ll be it then.”

He releases Flug’s shoulder and walks away. Flug turns and sees the demon’s retreating back.

He wanted to ask. Flug wanted to ask why that was suddenly so important? What was Black Hat doing in that room?

Yet Flug knows he won’t get any answers from the demon, so he just stands and watches as Black Hat slowly blends in with the darkness of the halls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking of a real name for Dr. Flug was fun! I just found Adam to have a nice ring to it.
> 
> As for his surname, Vivas comes from the Catalan language which means, 'may you live'. It's what I found when searching up surnames in the Spanish category and I found it accurate in many ways. This isn't my language so let me know if the meaning is wrong.


	3. The System (short)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is a short chapter! I originally didn't plan for it to be like this, but after trying to construct this story to my liking, found it best to flesh this piece out before moving back on the main train with the Villainous crew. 
> 
> You'll like it though. Trust me this is important, so you can understand the type of world they live in.

**Heroes.**

Heroes exist to protect the innocents of the world when they have no means to protect themselves. Heroes may be humans, they may be superhumans, or likely inhumans from another world, dimension, or plane. Heroes come in all forms, shapes and sizes, and may their only purpose for their gift be to do good.

Which is why government officials call for each hero to be strictly regulated in order to retain that purpose. In order for heroes to be heroes, they must gain the government’s trust and rescue citizens under their terms. Doing so, fame, recognition, and a comfortable lifestyle will be their rewards.

This process is especially important for newer generations signing into the hero business. Any child who has the ability and the potential to do more than an average human, shall be taken to special schools where they will be trained under the best. And depending on the child’s gifts, the process is mandatory. It is required for them to learn how to harness their abilities, but most importantly, they must learn to only use them for ‘good’.

But as any critically knowledgeable person may figure out, the system established is not at all perfect. This mainly dealt with the case of individuals who didn’t want to be drafted into heroism and refuse to take part in the government-funded program. In response, not liking the idea of rogues prowling round doing whatever they please, the officials forced upon them two choices:

Either work with the system or surrender your powers.

These options, which became law, drove rogues who wish to keep their powers into hiding. In such cases, special enforcement teams were designed to track and hunt them down. Whether one decides to turn themselves in peacefully or are dragged against their will, all rogues are taken to facilities specifically designed to extract all superhuman abilities. These facilities not only contain rogues, but also super villains where extraction is part of their sentence.

Citizens were put at ease with these policies, assured that under this system, their world will be safer. They were also given the promise that their methods of extraction are completely humane.

.

However, hidden away from the eyes of the citizens stands one facility, different from the others.

Disguised as a psychiatric ward, this facility serves as a research center. Within contains rogues, monsters, demons, and other beings society will not miss. And rather than extract their powers right away, they are studied, tested, experimented, and if proven to be useful, manipulated.

Many years ago, the facility exploded into ruble and not long after, its secrets were revealed to the public. Not all of them, but the actions that took place were accounted for by those involved, those that survived at least. Reports say that before the explosion, a good number of the scientists and doctors were brutally murdered, including the headmaster.

Even more shocking, rescued survivors say that the murders were done by a young child who was in fact the son of the headmaster. The detonator which caused the explosion was also done by the child.

Meanwhile, the government repeatedly denies knowing about the illegal experiments and says they never took part in it.

As for the all the victims contained within the ward, they’ve used the opportunity to escape and start new lives, while at the same time hiding from society.

And as for the child, whose actions (though terrible) gave the world attention, he was never found, heard from, or seen again.

 

**_The perks of wearing a mask._ **


	4. Targets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuuuuuuuuuuuck constructing this chapter was haaaaard! My brain hurts too lmao.
> 
> And wat? Illustrations? No one told me about this!! Oh wait did kinda mention it on [deviantart](http://visionskeeper.deviantart.com) and [tumblr](http://keepingvisions.tumblr.com). Here are links if you wanna see my art!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy this extra long chapter my homies!

…

 

_Alice was mad,_

_But she shared her Wonderland_

_With souls as broken as she._

 

…

“Greetings guests or should I say, our newest generation of heroes. The Department of Heroic Justice assigned you three to me for a reason. Though you are all young and fresh out of graduation, you three were chosen, because you are strong, loyal, and capable enough for this mission. Now are there any questions before we start?”

It was the person in the middle who raises their hand first. He was a boy in his late teens, fair build with medium length wavy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Above his casual long-sleeved shirt and faded jeans were pieces of armor and strapped to his back was a sword with an intricate golden handle. If you squint, you might see a faint glow.

“Ah yes, the team leader. Arthur is the name, correct?”

“Yes sir.” Arthur stands from his seat and eyes the speaker with blazing confidence. “I just wanna say… THAT I HAVE BEEN A HUGE FAN OF YOU SINCE I WAS A KID AND IT IS AN HONOR WORKING WITH YOU SIR!”

He tops off his jovial outburst with a solute. The act makes the person at his right hide their face in their hands while the person at his left huffed slightly but remained stoic.

The man lets out a chuckle. Small flames appeared around him and flickered. “I’m surprised you kids even remember me. Youngsters these days only focus on the modern superheroes. Don’t got time for old-timers like me.”

“You’re not that old…” says Arthur.

“True, but I am old enough to retire.”

“Are you going to retire?” This time, it was the person at Arthur’s right who spoke, a female, slightly shorter with light tan skin and short brown hair. She wore black rimmed glasses over her hazel eyes and donned a tight sleeveless top with above knee-length shorts, almost like a body suit. Both her arms, instead of flesh and bone, were entirely made of metal parts.

“This mission here will be my last assignment, and it’s a rather important one.”

“How important?” The person who sat at Arthur’s left spoke at last. His face was concealed by a wooden owl mask with only his mouth and hair visible. His bodysuit was entirely black with lighter patterns similar to that of feathers.

The man eyes the three youngsters before him for a moment. “You were all probably very young then, but this assignment relates to a well-known incident that happened with one of the extraction facilities.”

“You’re talking about the one that conducted illegal experiments right?” the girl asked. “I’d be surprised if there were students at our school who hasn’t heard about it. The news was so huge to a point where there had been uproars and riots that lasted for months!”

The man nodded. “It was a very difficult time; I would know. It was a time when students and rogues alike grew vulnerable and suspicious with the DHJ, until everything was finally cleared up.

“I was also there too, moments before the the facility exploded. We received a distress call for help, but by the time we got there, most of the damage had been done and was only about to get worse. That was when I saw the kid.”

The youngsters visibly tensed, all knowing exactly who he's referring to.

“R-Rumors say that you knew him, that you rescued him from a bus accident,” the female voiced hesitantly. “Is that true?”

.

.

.

_...ha…hahaha._

_...Hahahaha._

_HAhaHahahaHAHAHAHAHAHA._

_Look at me… I became a murderer~_

_They deserved it you know._

_But still…_

_Are you going to punish me again?_

_Hahaha..._

_..._

_You know_

_You should’ve killed me. You fake._

_So I'm gonna finish the job and do it myself. And I’m going to drag everything my father created down to hell with me._

.

.

.

The flames did a certain dance as the man’s lips grew into a smile. It was a kind of smile the youngsters couldn’t place. “Yes. It’s true. He was a very fragile kid, ever since the accident which cost him his mother. I was hoping he’d pick up the pieces and start anew, but even I didn’t anticipate an event like that to occur. But that aside…”

He punches some keys on a panel connected to the table they sat at. Also attached to the automated table are a series of tablets, four of them active and running.

“What you are called here for deals with one of the projects the facility conducted many years ago. The project is called: ALICE.

“Alice Hivegarden was a patient in the facility along with her younger sister, Monroe Hivegarden. Apparently, they come from an underground cult that served to protect certain powerful artifacts. Alice was chosen to protect an artifact that was said could give the user ‘the abilities of gods.’”

“What does that mean?” asked the owl masked boy.

“It means the abilities of creation. Making something out of nothing. Anything the wielder could want can be made possible through their fingertips. That’s what I got from the documents anyway. And as you may have guessed, this project was kept hidden from government officials until the catastrophic explosion took place. Their original plan was to have Alice hand over the artifact. Instead, she destroyed it. So the scientists settled with taking her and her little sister.”

“But why?” asked the young female, coiling in revulsion.

“Persistence probably, feeling the woman wouldn’t just recklessly destroy something so powerful if she didn’t know what she was doing. And they were right. They discovered that she only destroyed the artifact’s physical properties while harvesting its power source.”

“But wait, if that’s true then how was she captured so easily?”

“Her sister… they got to her first,” Arthur summed up. “Right?”

“Though that’s part of the reason, it’s far more complex,” the man stated. “True, she could’ve used its power for her and her sister to escape. But in this reality, she couldn’t, and at the same time she wouldn’t.”

“Okay, you lost me…” spoke Arthur.

“Read the documents.” The female next to him swiped through the recovered files on the tablet. “’LOG 019: Though the patient seems to possess the artifact’s power, she doesn’t seem to own it. The best way to describe this oddity is the patient is acting as a sort of container, a gateway to another reality where the powers of the artifact can be fully accessed. We feel this may have been done on purpose by her.’

“’LOG 020: Further studies in patient’s brain show our theories are not far off. The power source is indeed kept within another reality. Her reality. Her world in which she created with the help of the artifact. Theories suggest she enters through spiritual consciousness. Dreaming. Her world also seems to act as a barrier to contain, protect, and guard the power source. Realms and dimensional travel are not in our fields of expertise. This requires more research and testing.’

“’LOG 021: Unimportant, but felt should be documented for future notice. Other patients in our facility are acting a lot calmer. Usually, they’re more rampant, aggressive, and/or unstable. At night, they rarely sleep. Nowadays, they sleep more often and wake up refreshed or at least ready to put up with their scheduled appointments. The change started since Alice’s arrival, but her involvement cannot be proven unless we’re able to successfully enter inside her head, until we are able to enter her world.’

“’LOG 022: We are getting close. Thanks to alternative methods, her will is breaking. The barriers should be weak enough to force our way through. The game was fun, but it won’t be long till we seize the power she’s kept hidden away from us.’ Ugh the poor woman. I don’t even want to imagine what she had to go through.”

“But what point are you getting at showing us this?” the owl masked hero probed. “Does it tie in with our mission?”

“Yes, a great deal. If you read the date on the last log, you’ll notice it’s the same day the explosion occurred,” the man pointed out. “At first, I didn’t think there was any connection. I also took a closer look at LOG 021 and began tracking down the other patients. One was all I needed for questioning, and soon the pieces started to fit.”

“And what did you find?” Arthur asked, anticipation and apprehension building within him and his teammates.

“Alice Hivegarden had a circle of trust. The ex-patient told me that while she invites all of them into her world, only four were given access to use the artifact’s power. They were in her circle of trust. Can any of you identify at least two of these people?”

“Her sister, Monroe. That’s an obvious one,” the young female hero answered quickly.

“Correct, but she goes by a different name now. She calls herself Dr. Salem. I’m sure you’re all familiar with her.” The man sends an image of said woman to the youngsters.

The woman was slim and petite, her skin pale and had a mole decorated just below her left eye. Her long black hair curled like snakes at the ends, her outfit looked to be a cross between a witch and a nurse, and her black painted lips smiled deceitfully.

“Underground surgeon and hex expert,” the female hero swallows dryly. “A villain… who would’ve thought?”

The old hero continues. “And here is your next assigned target. The Sea Devil, known collector, treasure hunter, and wayward thief. His real name is Irie Walker and he too was a patient in the facility.”

Another image is pulled up, showing a dark-skinned male. His back hair was braided down to his shoulders, held together with an assortment of beads. He had on ancient yet expensive looking accessories around his neck and wrist. Affiliated with the ocean, the only article of clothing he had on was a pair of wetsuit pants. The man would pass for a human if not for three uncanny features: his eyes lacking a pupil and iris, having odd fins for ears, and protruding from his skull are two horns.

“And this last person should be targeted with caution. He was a scientist, an intern, who worked in the facility. But records show he never took part in Project: ALICE. Instead, his group dealt with the practiced art of summoning. Thanks to that, he made a friend. His name is Donavan May, but as a hitman, clients call him Acuto and his trusty demon partner, Bud.”

The image shows a well-dress man, possibly in his early forties, brown hair combed back, and glasses tinted with focus. He carries himself in a way that showed he’s always on his guard for surprise attacks. Looming behind him, appearing to ascend from the shadows, was an ominous looking werewolf, sharp teeth and claws ready to lash at opposing threats. And odd mark creases its forehead and dangling around its collar looked to be bones of some kind.

“These villains are under Alice’s circle of trust. Knowing they have access to the powers of the artifact puts the Department of Heroic Justice at a state of unrest. Your job is to capture them alive. Think you three can handle that?”

The young and new generation of heroes gave a determined nod.

“We were all trained for this after all. We can take’em!” Arthur boasted proudly.

“But what about Alice?” asked the female. “Won’t we need to capture her too?”

“Unfortunately, the ex-patient informed me that she passed away about a year ago.”

Silence stilled the room for a moment.

“This is all the more reason why we should detain these crooks. It could be possible that before her death, Alice passed the powers of creation down to at least one of them. There’s still very little we know about the artifact’s capabilities and what they can do with it, making them more dangerous than they currently are.”

“Hold on,” said Arthur. “Before, you said Alice had four people in her circle of trust. So who is the fourth person?”

“I think even you know the answer to that without him saying it Arthur,” said the owl mask.

“Y-Yeah but-”

“I understand your concern Arthur,” the old hero cut in. “Adam Vivas. The problem with him is he disappeared without a trace for over seventeen years. There’s no telling if he’s alive or dead at this point and I don’t want you to waste your time finding him only for it to end up being a lost cause. Focus on the targets assigned to you.”

He raised a hand just as Arthur opened his mouth to protest.

“But,” he continues. “If by chance you do happen to find him, _do not_ pursue him. If you find him, I want you three to contact me immediately.”

The flames that danced around intensified slightly. The eyepatch the man wore with scars underneath could be seen more clearly.

“I’ll be the one to handle him.”

.

.

…

A whole night had passed since Adam began staying in his new… home. It was more like a prison cell in his eyes. Dark, lonely, and empty.

He didn’t sleep. He couldn’t. His mind wouldn’t let him.

He wished he had someone to talk to. He wished to see someone other than these dull depressing walls. But he’s too afraid to leave the room, not knowing what awaits him beyond the door.

His father didn’t come see him yesterday. Part of him was glad. Still, shouldn’t a parent come for their child when they’re most helpless and in need of comfort?  

Adam didn’t want to see his father though. His mother divorced him for a reason and Adam hardly remembers what he’s like. He can only guess how he’s like now.

Donavan, the young intern he met yesterday, he was nice. Adam hoped to see him again soon.

Suddenly, there was a loud banging at the door. The sound made Adam yelp and fearing the worst, he cowered under the blankets.

“Darn it, what did I tell you two?” His ears picked up Donovan’s voice. Surprised, he peaks his head out the wool and listens closely. “I said no banging! You’ll only startle him. Move aside, let me enter.”

Bright light breaks through a tiny crack as the door opens. Donavan’s wearied face appears.

“Hey there kid. Morning,” he smiled. “Hope the noise didn’t scare ya.”

“O-Only a little. I’m fine,” Adam squeaked.

The man sighed. “Sorry about that. I originally planned to come alone to invite you over for breakfast with us, but… W-Woah- HEY!”

Two small forms pushed passed him and bounded over to Adam like raging torpedoes. The boy shrieked and hid inside the blankets once more.

“Hey come on, don’t be afraid.”

“Yeah, we promise we won’t bite. We just want to say hi!”

After seconds pass and feeing no strikes of pain, Adam braves to look through the blankets.

Two children, both about the same age as him, smiling gingerly at him. One was a girl with short black pigtails and the other was a boy with odd fish-like features and horns. Both of them wore identical white tops and pants. Patient’s garbs. There also appears to be a strange device attached to their ankles.

“Hey man, the name’s Irie Walker!”

“And I’m Monroe Hivegarden!”

“We rarely get ta see other kids!”

“All the other patients here are older than us!”

“Maybelline told us the headmaster is ya dad. Is that true?”

“We don’t see him much, but he’s pretty mean…”

“Also how’d ya get banged up like dat? Dose bandages must look pretty nasty.”

“Are you a patient like us too?”

“THAT’S ENOUGH BOTH OF YOU!”

Donavan yanked them back by the collar. Seeing the doctor trying to control the two squirming hyperactive children looked comical to the near frightened Adam. Shouting over each other, they didn’t hear him giggle.

“Anyway,” the intern appeared more ruffled than before, as he held Monroe and Irie under each arm. “I hope you don’t mind. I would promise that the experience won’t be too disconcerting, but I can’t guarantee that with these two. Trust me.”

“Keep telling yaself that Maybelline~” Irie grinned impishly.

“We know you love us Mr. May!” Monroe followed.

Donovan visibly coiled at the names. “See what I mean?”

Adam pondered silently. Last night, he ate alone in this room. Donovan brought a tray over to him and at first, Adam thought that’s how things went around here. Now, he realized that Donovan was giving him space after going through a lot. He couldn’t help but feel internally grateful.

He smiles as best he could. “Sure. I don’t mind.”

“YAY!” The children cheered and wiggled out of Donavan’s grip. Next thing Adam knew, he was being dragged and pushed by Irie and Monroe out the door, shouts from Donavan could be heard following from behind.

The room he was taken to was Donavan’s apartment dorm/office area, floors above the patient’s quarters. These rooms were made for doctors and scientists working in the facility. There wasn’t a whole lot, but the place was bigger.

It even had a small kitchen.

“Usually patients aren’t really allowed to be up here, but this district is literally empty and inspections come once a month. Sometimes never,” the intern explains while bringing plates of food over to the table. Needless to say it’s a surprise to discover that the man cooks. It could explain why the food he ate last night tasted a lot better than he anticipated. “Also, if I’m going to babysit a couple of brats, I’d like to do it my way.”

“How brave~” teases Monroe.

“Yeah, for someone who’s afraid of his boss!” laughs Irie.

“Can it or you won’t get seconds.”

“Is my father really that bad?” Adam asks curiously.

Silence fills as the three fidget uneasily.

“He’s… not the best person to be around, mainly because he’s a headmaster and that’s what headmasters do. Don’t worry too much about it. Now eat before your food gets cold.” Donavan signaled it the end of that subject and Adam knew the three were hiding something, but he himself was too afraid to probe further into it.  

As he ate and listened to the kids chatter, a shiver ran up his spin as he felt eyes watching him. The feeling unsettled him, like he was seconds away to becoming someone’s prey. He turned slowly and his heart nearly stopped at the sight of a wolf, its fur black as night with bones hanging from its collar. It sat on its hind legs, watching the boy the same way one would peer inside a person’s soul.

Adam couldn’t breathe. Where did it come from? Unless it came from the bathroom (which was entirely too small for it to be in), there was no way Adam wouldn’t’ve noticed it here! And is that even a wolf at all??

“Oh, don’t mind him,” Donavan says airily, not even looking up from a newspaper article he was reading. “He’s my… companion I guess? We call him Bud. He’ll appear out of nowhere a lot.”

‘Bud’ made a noise that may be similar to a snort or a huff. And did he roll his eyes? Adam wasn’t sure.

“Ah don’t be so frightened, he’s actually really cool!” Irie says. “I’ll show ya!”

The fish-boy leaves his seat and instantly pounces onto the wolf’s furry back, an act that made Adam want to faint for the child’s sake. The mysterious animal did not look like a huggable or playful type, more like a maul and tear-you-to-shreds type.

However, instead of devouring the child, Bud stads on all fours and shakes his entire body. The fish boy couldn’t keep hold and catapults a good few feet away.

“Owww… meanie!” Irie did an angry pout while rubbing his sore back.

The wolf only huffs in response, and with a final glance at Adam, he trots away towards a pile of blankets and pillows next to the couch. He lays his body down and proceeds to lightly doze off.

“Bud can be pretty lazy though,” Monroe says to Adam, giggling at his bewildered face. “But once you bother him enough, he can play games with you!”

“It’ll only be a matter of time when he’s fed up though,” Donovan says, shaking his head. “If either of you lose a limb or two, remember it’s your fault.”

That was the start of Adam’s first day at this facility, his new home, and a start of many days like this to come. He didn’t think this was how his life would turn out to be, and it’ll take a long while for him to cope with everything he’s lost. He can never bring back the life he once had, and this place was far from welcoming. It’s an asylum after all, run by his biological father.

But if he gets to be around these people more often, no matter how overwhelming they might be at times (save for Donavan), then living here might not be so bad.

.

.

…

Of all of mankind’s greatest inventions, if Flug were asked to pick his most favorite, his immediate answer would be planes. It was man’s first invention to get humans to fly. Hot air balloons got humans in the air yes, but it just doesn’t give off the same experience of flying as planes do. Before working for Black Hat, Flug went to flight school and secured a license.

In a previous life, he remembers his mother used to be a pilot. She loved planes and flying just as much as he did. One time, as a surprise birthday gift, she managed to borrow a tricycle gear type from a close friend. It was his first time soaring through the skies and it was a moment he swore to never forget.

For some reason, Flug finds himself thinking back at the memory as he and his evil crew arrive inside the airport lobby. His flight is scheduled to leave in less than fifteen minutes.

“Well… I guess this is good bye for now,” Flug says awkwardly, both hands occupied with a duffle bag and suitcase. Demencia and 5.0.5. stood before him, ready to see him off while Black Hat is seen yards away, looking at his pocket watch and tapping his foot impatiently.

Black Hat only acted stranger in the morning, appearing fidgety (though he tries to hide it) and sometimes looking around him (discreetly as possible), as if seeing something only he could see and none one else can. A possibility, but no one, not even Demencia, dares to ask what. Hopefully, when Flug returns, his boss will be himself again.

Demencia rolls her eyes and punches Flug’s arm. “Send your family our condolences alright Nerd?”

“S-Sure.” Flug rubs at the spot she hit. That’s likely gonna bruise later.

The scientist was far from ready when 5.0.5. lifted him into one of his signature hugs, the ones known for breaking peoples’ spines. Wheezing, Flug returns the gesture with a few pats on the bear’s back, mindful of the spikes.

Speaking of, since when did 5.0.5 wear collars? The spikes were gold, and had a tag in the shape of a heart.

About a minute later, Flug was put down and 5.0.5. smiled big, eyes sparkling in a pleased sort of manner. The look confused Flug so he turned to Demencia for an explanation. She only snickered and reached inside her shirt. She pulled out a golden necklace with a tag design similar to 5.0.5.’s.

Then it clicked. Flug reached to his neck and there he felt the gold chain. He felt the heart-shaped tag as well.

“Big guy wanted to give you a parting gift before you go,” the girl shrugged, taking it as something that’s not a big deal, but her grin says it all.

5.0.5. went out of his way to get this for him? How did he even manage to get it around his neck having such huge paws?

“Rrowlr?” The animal tilts his head, waiting patiently for a response.

If only the bear could see his smile.

“Thanks buddy. I’ll cherish it.”

That seemed to be more than enough as he was pulled into another bone-crushing hug. Flug didn’t mind though. Black Hat would hate him for saying this, but 5.0.5. will always be his most favorite experiment.

It was Demencia’s turn to give him a surprise hug (he nearly fell over) before he had to go. He only had few minutes left before his flight takes off.

Part of him felt a little disappointed that Black Hat didn’t give him any parting words, but shook it off. Him being physically there was enough he supposes.

Then a thought came. If 5.0.5. gave him and Demencia a necklace,

Then does Black Hat have one too?

…Preposterous. The bear probably tried, but knowing the boss, he either refused it or better yet, burned it to ashes under his palm.

 _“I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing this… **vile** thing!”_ Flug could almost hear him say. He chuckles at the mental image, the way his boss would nearly hurl at anything involving love and friendship or togetherness. Probably a demon thing. Or whatever race Black Hat comes from.

But yeah, he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UUUUGGGHH I hope this chapter isn't confusing! I'll reread for mistakes later.
> 
> Before you ask, yes, among the heroes only Arthur's name is given. Yes I did that on purpose. Why? It's called 'suspenssssse' lol.
> 
> Fuk I need to lay down. Hope you enjoyed!!


	5. Suspicions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOHOHOOO BOY. OK.
> 
> So. I might've added a special guest in this story. Which means I might've added a meme in here?? IDK I just thought it'd be hilarious. You might love it, you might hate it, can't do anything about it because it's already too late lmao.
> 
> Oh and more clues and puzzles to feed your brain. And maybe feels.

Black Hat was sure he’ll regret this.

There are better, much more productive things he’d rather be doing; things that are important for his business. Or heck, if not that, if he was going to waste valuable time, then he’d rather waste it torturing innocent lives!

Or watch stand-up marathons.

Really anything, ANYTHING, other than what he’s about to do right now.

He’s already punched in the coordinates. All he has to do is press the call button to send a transmission signal. And be prepared for the worst.

Unpredictably and very sudden, something cold wisps over the eldritch demon’s shoulder. The feeling seeped through his clothes and touched his skin, causing Black Hat to shiver repulsively.

Oh yeah, and then there’s THIS problem.

A fucking ghost is following him. He couldn’t recall exactly when this started, but Black Hat knew it wasn’t long ago. So far, he could only make out its faint spiritual outline, but it’s scent reeks of a human. This lead him to conclude that the spirit is likely a wanderer, the worst kind.

Wanderers are annoying. They are humans souls who refuse to persist after death. Their reasons for doing so (such as regret, revenge, refusing to accept they’re dead, refusing to let go of something or someone) all of them Black Hat finds laughable. Humans are such sensitive creatures it’s quite appalling.

He’s dealt with his own share of wanderers throughout his existence, all of them wanting to haunt him as retribution for all the horrors he may have brought upon them. They were never successful. Fun fact: spiritual energy, especially energy from restless souls, is quite nutritious. The wails and agonizing cries provide extra flavor!

However, this human soul has proved to be difficult. He’s attempted many times to devour it only to fail. What’s odd is that the soul… doesn’t really do anything. It hasn’t tried to curse Black Hat or his villa or even his employers. It just wanders around, occasionally shifting things and breathing over his shoulder.

It’s annoying. He’ll find time to deal with the pest later. But now to more important matters.

With a heavy sigh, Black Hat smashes the call button, ready to get this over with as soon as possible. The less time he has to talk with her the better.

“MR. BEEEEEEE!”

The call picks up immediately and Black Hat fights the urge to groan. He remains looking professional, but his twitching eye is enough of an indicator to know how much he despises the name. And she knows it.

This is why he hates children.

“I was wondering when I’d ever hear from my most _favorite_ customer~” The child from behind the screen bounces jovially, making her red braided pigtails move along with her. “You’re not still upset about that last request you made... are you?”

There was a slight crack to the demon’s composure. And something may have died inside.

“Oh come on, it wasn’t that bad,” the girl consoles sweetly. “I mean to be fair, you are old, like REALLY old. It must be hard keeping up with the times of human society. We change so fast in your perspective.”

She drops the facade with a snort. “So it’s really no surprise that you didn’t know what a _meme_ is-”

“THAT’S ENOUGH.” Black Hat transports his upper body through the screen, into the little girl’s room. His form distorts into something grotesque enough to make her scream in terror. If he had it his way, he’d do more than give an unpleasant image, but doing so would put him at a disadvantage. He transports back to his room and returns to his primary form.

“I don’t have time for your petty games Wendy. I need information,” the demon starts, dusting invisible dirt off his coat. “And the way I see it, that’s the only reason why I still let you live. I hope you know that.”

“And here I thought we were forming a special bond that could never be broken. How silly of me,” Wendy voiced sarcastically, nearly recovering from the recent horrorshow. She gives a dramatic sigh. “You’re no fun. Fine. What sort of information shall I be providing for you today Mr. B?”

“I want you to tell me all you know about these people.” With a few buttons he sends two images to Wendy. The girl begins to analyze them.

One was a photo of a hero, well known in past generations. This one is of him when he was younger. His one piece suit and wild hair compromises well with his element: fire.

The next one was another old photo. It was was of a little boy. Harsh angry burns blossomed the right side of the child’s face, flesh ruined and unrecognizable. Parts of his hair were singed off, never again to grow back. His expression was sad and miserable.

“From what I gathered, the hero rescued this boy from some freak bus accident,” the demon begins, eyes hidden beneath his top hat. “There were eight other passengers, including the child’s mother. Somehow, all of them died in the accident, leaving only the boy to survive, rescued by this ‘hero’.

“Also, how the accident happened in the first place was never properly explained. The boy couldn’t give much while the hero says that it swerved out control and crashed. But how? There were no other vehicles around at the time and unless the driver was extraordinarily drunk or something, the bus shouldn’t’ve produced the amount of damage it received, especially on such an empty highway with nothing for it to hit. Accidents like that shouldn’t cause that many deaths either.”

Black Hat’s gaze shifts to the photo of the child. He suppresses a growl wanting badly to surface.

“And then there’s the child’s... injury. You don’t get something like that from mere bus accident.”

The girl’s eyes widen in surprise. But then her lips split into a grin, teeth gleaming in delight.

“How very observant of you Mr. B and you have every right to be suspicious! Government officials do like to cover these sort of things and the Department of Heroic Justice isn’t all spiffed up and clean as they make the gullible citizens believe. Speaking of, how is Demencia by the way? That’s her new name now right? I gotta say, with her new look, not even her own family will recognize her anymore.”

“As it should be and don’t derail the subject Wendy. What do you know?”

“That those reports are all a big pile of fecal trash just to cover up what really happened,” Wendy says casually while reaching for her teapot, refilling some tea in an expensive clay cup.

“The sad thing is, stuff like this is quite common. You got higher ups, CEO’s, and other power-hungry goons striking deals with heroes with the promise of vast amounts of money. Then you have heroes that are willing to carry out these dirty tasks, like this man.” She motions to the photo of the elemental hero. “Captain Pyreman, a well respected icon amongst children, but more than once he’s accepted deals as his heroic business began declining with better heroes stealing his spotlight, meaning less money in his paycheck.

“One such client he worked with was Robert Davison, who divorced his wife Mariana Vivas. Laws require Davison to pay child support for their son, Adam Vivas, and no longer wanting to send a single dime to his wife, gave Captain Pyreman a simple request: Kill his wife and child and make it look like an accident.”

“And why did the child survive still?” Black Hat asks calmly.

“Well,” Wendy takes a sip of her tea. “Though Captain Pyreman has committed murders before, none of them involved children. Perhaps he just couldn’t do it. But with everything little Adam Vivas witnessed, the hero definitely wanted to be sure the kid will keep quiet about it. So he gave him a gift...” She laughs gleefully. “How blissfully ironic that letting him live would backfire on both of them? Hey hey, you know what I think? I think Pyreman’s name should be changed to Captain _Pyrrrrate!”_ She laughs again.

Black Hat however, doesn't laugh and instead asks. “And what happened to the child after plunging his father’s business into flames?”

Wendy stops laughing and eyes the demon curiously. She tilts her head, grin lopsided. “What’s gotten you so interested all of a sudden Mr. B? I never pegged you as someone who’d look into these things if it had nothing to do with you or your villainy business… unless it does?”

“Don't make me ask you again,” he snarls at her.

“Alright fine!” She pouts in disappointment. “You're no fun anymore… So, Adam Vivas huh? Well, your guess is as good as mine! All info of him became non existent in all track records since that infamous explosion.”

“You expect me to believe that you pesky little rodent?!” Black Hat slams a fist on the control panel. “You’re telling me you, Wendy Thomas, infobroker and one of the top leading hackers in the world, could not find a single bit of information on Adam Vivas? I’m warning you Wendy, my patience with you is running thin, so you best be honest with me or I’ll ruin more than your stupid fast food career. So what will it be...”

Sweat cascades down the little girl’s face. She know’s Black Hat is serious with his threats when he really wants something, and she usually wouldn’t mind telling him everything she knows with a hundred percent honesty. But this…

She swallows hard. “I… I can’t.”

“... **What?** ”

His voice takes a deep demonic turn and Wendy sees her vision distort, darkness closing in on her surroundings. The air suddenly becomes too thick to breath and eyes and teeth and tendrils appear left and right through the darkened void. Wendy could only shut her eyes and huddled in her desk chair, hoping and praying for the sights to stop. It does little help.

 **“I didn’t catch what you said just now Wendy. Care to repeat that?”** His voice echoes all around, whispers dangerously and ominously close, promising the worst.

“I’m sorry! I really am!” the girl cries. “But I promised someone I wouldn’t tell! I promised not to tell anyone! And anyone who wants information on Adam Vivas will have to answer to her instead. So it really has nothing against you, I swear!”

The air becomes breathable again, and the feeling of being helplessly trapped recedes.

“Who?”

Wendy blinks her teary eyes open. Her vision is back to normal and Black Hat stares expectantly at her through the other side of the screen.

“Um…” She sniffs. “D-Dr. Salem.”

Black Hat hums, tapping his chin in thought. He never thought that woman would have any relation to this. Finding her won’t be that difficult though. He shivers, feeling the wisps of coldness again. Damn that stupid ghost…

“That’ll be all then.” Black Hat snaps his fingers and a black suitcase appears in Wendy’s room, on the floor next to her. “That should cover the cost of your services.”

The little girl only nods in response. Black Hat sighs.

“...It’s late. And I’m sure you’ll be busy tomorrow. So get some sleep.” WIth that, he cuts the transmission.

Wendy wipes her eyes and slowly climbs out of her chair. She ignores the suitcase for now and makes a short walk to her king-sized bed. Being CEO of a fast food chain and snuffing out the competition with her amazing hacker skills while secretly working as an infobroker is tiring business. And it’ll only get more tiring tomorrow if she doesn’t rest her head, Black Hat is right.

Arriving at her bed, her eyes widen in surprise when she sees a rectangular box with a ribbon tied on top. She stares at it for a while and curiosity getting the better of her, she cautiously lifts the lid open.

Chocolate-covered strawberries. Her favorite. Wendy huffs, then giggles and picks up the box. She hops onto her bed with a huge smile on her face, already eating one of the strawberries.

“You’re an interesting guy Mr. B. You never cease to surprise me.” She sighs contentedly into her mattress. “And that’s why you’re my favorite customer.”

…

“Ugh, and this is why I hate children. They’re too troublesome to deal with.” Black Hat massages the bridge between his eyes where his nose would be if he had one. A final press of a button and the transmission machine descends into the floorboards. Sighing, Black Hat exits his personal study room, noting with displeasure the presence of the wanderer following him from behind. Ignoring it, he reaches inside his coat and pulls out a photo.

It’s of that same little boy, Adam Vivas. The more he stares at it, the more the image changes into a certain scientist, without the paper bag. They look practically identical at this point, but he can’t jump to conclusions yet.

Where to go from here? Should he wait for Dr. Flug to come back and force some answers out of him? No. The last time he did that, things did not end well, he reminds himself.

Should he seek Dr. Salem then? Black Hat’s never met her before, but he’s heard that she’s a bit of a kook. Has the habit of stealing internal organs, either magically or manually. And she uses them for potions. An interesting woman in Black Hat’s opinion.

But how she holds any relation to Adam Vivas is beyond him. And why does she feel the need to cover his tracks so badly?

Maybe he should go find her. Yeah. First thing tomorrow, he’ll track her location and pay her a visit. One way or another, he’ll have his questions answered and see if Flug and Adam are indeed the same person. And if the are…

A wide smile stretches the erdrich's face.

Then he’ll pay a certain hero a visit too. Screw the fact the the guy met him first, no one touches **his** scientist and gets away with it unscathed.

  


...

What Black Hat doesn’t know is that tomorrow will be the day where all the pieces of the chessboard are set and ready.

And he will soon play his part in the game.

All she needs to do is wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHA how was that? I know the chapter's pretty short but it needs to stop here!
> 
> Hm I wonder what's in store for Black Hat?
> 
> Also, that bit about Demencia, if you want a clue about her backstory, read my other fic [Broken](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11401056). Keep in mind it's a Flug/Demencia fic, but you'll find a small clue about her past which will be better explained later on in this story. It's my primary headcanon basically. 
> 
> And last but not least I wrote this chapter while listening to [Die](https://soundcloud.com/jshigley/rwby-die) from RWBY. The song just fits so well with everything that's going on here.


	6. Mariana and Alice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoooooo sorry for the delay but here's another fresh chapter for ya~~

The first time Adam met his father was on the day of the funeral.

Headmaster Dr. Robert Davison seemed to look at the world through eyes of calculated disdain. His expression was a permanent stone, not letting a single sliver of vulnerability slip through the tiny cracks. Reunited with his son for the first time in a long time, a smile managed to be drawn on his sharp chiseled face.

But his dark brown eyes said everything Adam needed to know.

_You’re not my son. You’re nothing but dirt beneath the soles of my shoes._

It was hard to believe this was the kind of man his mother married. Perhaps he wasn’t always like this? Poor Adam wouldn’t know. The past few nights, he tried to think back to the time his parents were together. The memories were splotchy, likely because he was a toddler then. Remarkably, he was able to salvage some bits and pieces.

He recalls hardly ever seeing his father come home from work. When he does, his mother would kindly take her son to his room. Shouts would ensue and minutes later, there’d be an earth-shuddering slam of a door. His father would be out again.

Adam also recalls once seeing his mother’s cheek done a harsh handprint while her neck bruised a deeper darker color. Other bruises were discreetly hidden under long sleeves as Mariana smiles through the pain, her eyes red and puffy. But she continues to smile and care for her little boy.

Adam was barely five when the divorce took place.

Thanks to these memories, Adam realized his father had been a horrible person. He may not know the details, but understood that much. And picking up how his new friends would avoid talking about him and his job as headmaster, Adam could bet that he is just as terrible towards other people as he was with his now-ex-wife.

Now, seeing his father attend the funeral of the person he had physically hurt made Adam want to cry with rage. It didn’t help that the man looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but here and only stuck around to keep a positive image. Soon though, Dr. Robert excuses himself, muttering something about important business he needed to attend to, and left early. People looked at him with confusion and bitterness. Adam however, was rather grateful.

The ceremony continues in somber silence, prayers, and well wishes. The casket could not be opened because of the gruesome state of Mariana’s face. Thankfully nobody asked too much about it, at least not to Adam. It was bad enough for him to even picture exactly how she got it.

Adam didn’t have any relatives that were alive, so those that arrived were close friends Mariana had made throughout her lifetime. The boy was surprised at the amount of people that showed. He even knew some of them and each of them politely offered their condolences, handed him gifts as well as their numbers in case he needed anything or wanted someone to talk to.

Donavan was also there to attend, even though he admitted he was actually ordered to go to look after Adam, because from the start Dr. Robert planned on leaving early. He also said he would’ve gone anyway if it wasn’t an order. Irie and Monroe would’ve liked to come too, but patients weren’t allowed to leave the facility. So to solve this, the two made cards so his mother’s spirit could read them. Monroe proudly stated that it was her idea.

Adam stuck by Donavan’s side through the event which took place at an old church surrounded by gravestones. Many took turns to say a few words. Adam chose not to give a eulogy, not trusting his ability to stand in front an audience and not have a panic attack. So instead, he had written his words on paper and gave it to a clergyman, who would give the eulogy instead.

Forget-me-nots were Mariana’s favorite flowers. They reminded her of bright blue skies. These tiny plants, coupled with white lilies, littered her coffin as it slowly made its decent beneath the earth’s surface. Adam watched the burial process silently while others around him quietly sobbed and dabbed their faces with handkerchiefs.

The funeral was over once the burial was finished and a headstone was placed. Everyone had long since left. Only Adam and Donavan remained, both holding their last batches of forget-me-nots. They placed them with Irie and Monroe’s handmade cards against the headstone.

“Hey Don?”

“Yeah kid?”

The boy shuffles his shoe against the dew-cut grass. They were new, along with his black suit, all bought by his father, not out of any ounce of love, but out of custom. The same reason he paid for the whole funeral arrangement. It wasn’t because he loved his ex-wife. It was simply out of custom.

“My mom would’ve loved to have gotten to know you,” Adam says, staring at her grave. “Irie and Monroe too. She loves children. She loves making friends with anyone really. She’d even want to be friends with Bud. She likes wolves. Demon wolves would probably fascinate her.”

“You don’t say?” The intern scientist breathes a chuckle and ruffles the child’s head. He sighs. “It’s always the good people that kick the bucket. Still, though I never met her, this experience has told me enough that she was an amazing woman. And she’s raised a good kid.”

Adam bows his head. “She didn’t deserve to die.”

Donavan blinks down at the him, curious of his tone. The kid looked like he was trying to keep himself together, teeth grit tight while hot tears flowed down his cheek. One hand clawed at the bandages around his face as if it ailed him incredibly. The man seemed to get it and kneels to his level, hand on Adam’s shoulder.

“It’s messed up I know, but there was nothing you could’ve done. Accidents tend happen in the worst ways possible.”

Donavan was taken aback when the child broke into pained sobs. The action was so sudden and Donavan nearly panics, but pushes back the feeling to try to calm the child down.

“K-Kid? Hey what’s wrong?” He asks, rubbing the kid’s back. But Adam doesn’t seem to hear him.

Did… did he say the wrong thing? Perhaps his words were too harsh? Too straightforward for a child to hear? He had no idea! Oh god what should he do?!

Darkness emerges from Donavan’s shadow, taking shape. Paws tap silently until Bud’s form sits before the crying child. Before Donavan could guess what the creature is planning, the wolf leans and licks Adam’s face, catching the tears that fell. Honestly, Donavan would’ve been surprised, but more than once he’s witnessed the wolf console Irie and Monroe whenever either of them broke down like this. It’s strange since doing that was never part of their contract, not that Donavan’s complaining. He could use the help even if it comes from a demon.

So Donavan watches the scene, trying his damnedest not to laugh at Adam’s startled squeak. Small hands tried to push the animal away, but sadly despite his efforts, the wolf remains resilient, determined to coat the child’s face with saliva. Giggles bubble out Adam’s throat as he begs and pleads for Bud to stop. He doesn’t stop.

Donovan wasn’t sure if he’d been imagining things or not, but as he soon failed to contain his laughter, his ears picked up a faint sound of a woman laughing along with him.

.

.

…

“Huh? You have a sister?”

“Yup. Her name is Alice! She’s also a patient like me and Irie.”

“Do you get to see her?”

“Well, those science guys keep her locked up below ground. They let me visit her sometimes, but they don’t allow her to leave.”

“That’s awful. Is there something wrong with her?”

“She has something important that they want. Humph, but it’s not even theirs to begin with.”

“And what’s that?”

Monroe smiles big and spreads her arms exuberantly.

“Wonderland!”

Adam stares, expression blank as he pauses tightening a rather small screw. The boy was currently in the middle of piecing one of Donavan’s old laptops back together after dismantling it.

“You mean… like in the stories?”

The girl nods. “It’s not like your average story though, but that’s what we call it! The place is huuuuge and every night she invites all the patients. And I get to be the queen while Irie and Mr. May are kings and we each have our own kingdoms we get to create and the patients love visiting them and-”

“Monroe stop. Can’t you see you’re frying the kid’s brain?” Donavan speaks up from the kitchen area, nearly finished putting toppings on the pizza before it could be placed in the oven.

Adam indeed appeared to be incredibly lost. First they were talking about Monroe’s sister and that conversation suddenly shifted to stories and kingdoms. It didn’t connect. 

“Don’t try to make sense out of any of it,” the man speaks again, setting the timer as the pizza bakes. “It… really is hard to explain.”

“Huh?”

“Why not instead of explaining it to him, we can show him?” Irie suggests looking up from a storybook about pirate adventures. He lays his back against Bud, who cracked an eye open.

“W-What-”

“That’s a great idea!” Monroe shouts happily. “Sis was really interested when I talked to her about him! Oh you’re going to love Wonderland Adam!”

The boy quickly turns head to Donavan, hoping the man would give insight or at least save him from this confusion. Thankfully, he comes to his aid.

“Let’s leave the subject aside for now. You kids still haven’t decided which desert you want me to make. Cookies or brownies?”

And as the two patients argue over which confectionaries are far superior over the other, Adam was given a crucial reminder that he is residing in an asylum. A.k.a. a crazy house, filled with people who are… not all there.

Because there is absolutely no way a Wonderland exists. It’s just an old fable tale made up by an English author.

Adam was sure of it.

.

.

…

Black Hat wasn’t sure how he got here.

From observing his surroundings, he’d guess he’s in some sort of town or city. It looked European, with its gothic architecture and narrow streets. The place doesn’t seem tech-reliant though, like in the modern era. No, in fact he could pick up the sense of magic resonating… everywhere.

The skies were gray with a hint of smog. Lights seem to indicate residents, but the entire place was barren. Black Hat passes a bakery. Everything displayed appeared fresh and the aroma was strong, as if the food were made just minutes ago. But there was no baker in sight. Not a soul made themselves known in the building. And it’s the same with every other area the eldritch passed. Items appear to have been used even when there’s no one who could’ve used them in the first place. Unless everyone mysteriously vanished moments before Black Hat arrived.

Whatever this place is and wherever he is, Black Hat is far from pleased.

This isn’t a dream. That he is damn certain of, despite his last recollection was of him going to bed. Black Hat knows dreams. He’s _made_ dreams, actually nightmares but you get the point. Dreams are fabrications and illusions made to seem ‘real’.

But everything here feels too solid. He may as well be in some alternate world, an empty and desolate one. It’s not a far-fetched theory.

Black Hat stops to think. Okay, so what did he do to put himself in this situation?

Nothing noteworthy comes to mind. He couldn’t have come here by accident, especially while sleeping. He used to sleepwalk a few times which would sometimes result in him leaving behind a path of destruction. But never before did he randomly teleport unconsciously. So he couldn’t’ve done this himself. The only other explanation he could surmise is that this may be some kind of twisted joke made by someone wanting to get even with him, for reasons he’d care less to remember…

Wait.

That wanderer! HA! So they’ve finally decided to make their first move! Well once he sniffs them out, it’ll be him who gets the last laugh! They had to be here, he just needs to find them.

And right as he made that thought, Black Hat’s sensors picked up that familiar human soul a distance away. Music also began playing. A harmonica, its notes echoing throughout in long somber waves, giving this empty town a rather haunting feel. Black Hat didn’t care about that though, focusing on the soul and stepped quickly towards its location. The spiritual pull led him to a more open area. The closer he got, the clearer he could hear the sound of the harmonica.

But once he was there, the soul disappeared and the harmonica echoed off into nothing. Try as he may, he couldn’t detect them again.

“You can’t be serious!” the eldritch roared. He’s had enough. “Just what sort of benefit are you getting from this? If you’re trying to make me upset to the highest degree, then congratulations! I’ll not only eat away your sorry existence, I’ll tear you piece by piece so the agony will last longer. So if you don’t want that to be your ending fate, you best take me back to my villa this instant and pray I never find you again.”

The only response he got was silence. Black Hat feels his blood pressure rise as black tendrils snaked from his form from loss of mental control.

Just as he was going to quell is anger by destroying anything and everything that stood, the soul reveals itself again.

A woman sits atop a stone arch. Her black hair was cut short at the back while at the front, the strands reached past her shoulders. She wore a plain white dress that reached her ankles. Her skin was pale white, other than her black lips, and her eyes were colorless, indicators that she’s no longer alive. Lastly, a crown sat atop her head, silver in color. Something felt odd about it.

But nonetheless, the wanderer has finally showed herself, for the first time in months. Black Hat was hoping it’d be some long lost enemy he defeated or at least someone recognizable.

But looking at this woman, he wound up with nothing. He doesn’t know her and that felt far more annoying than if it was someone he did know. Because at least he’d be able to guess what their intentions are.

“Who are you?” Black Hat beings by asking this first. “And what do you want?”

The woman on the arch just sits silently, casually swinging her legs over the edge. Her head tilts, observing Black Hat curiously.

“Did you think I was spouting empty treats earlier?” he continues, glaring up at her. “You’re either insane or incredibly stupid for testing me this much. So you better tell me now who you are and what you want, because this is your final chance.”

The woman, again, remains unresponsive. She only blinks, and blinks again. Then, she inclines her head over the arch she sits on, looking down below her.

“Are you not listening!?” he shouts.

She doesn’t say. Her gaze locks to whatever she’s focusing on.

So Black Hat decides to take a gander at the object himself.

And his expression falls in utter disbelief.

Beneath the arch, a statue stood at its center. Black Hat hadn’t paid much attention before, but around him were a total of four statues, each sat beneath their own archway. They were statues of people, three of them children and one much older; all of them dressed like rulers of some sort… and each wore a crown identical to the one the woman possesses.

But Black Hat eyes stare only that the statue the woman sat atop of.

It was a child, a young boy with gruesome scars on the right side of his face. He smiles brightly, gazing at a paper plane in his hand positioned above his head, about ready to release it. His attire consists of a fancy ruffle top, knee length shorts, dress shoes, and a long cape that blew behind him, material looking to be made of feathers. He had a crown on his head like the others.

Birds position at the child’s feet and below them lay a plaque that read:

GOLD KING

Will fly by your side,

Even with broken wings.

Black Hat stares at the plaque, then at the child with wide eyes.

What is this?

Just as he thought he had a lead about this child… about Flug…

And now he’s as lost as ever.

He cradles his head. Words cannot describe how he’s feeling, but anger and frustration are definitely part of the mix.

“Explain this…” Black Hat became disgusted at the waver in his voice. It sounded so weak, so unlike him. So he remedies this by covering it, building more of his rage and aims it at the woman on the arch, eyes glowing red. “ **EXPLAIN THIS TO ME OR ELSE!!** ”

Black Hat blinks in surprise to find the woman gone. She’s nowhere to be seen. Where is she?

Where the hell is she?!

There’s no why she’s going to dump this on him only disappear again! He won’t allow it!

He’s tired of searching for clues only to find dead ends at every turn. He’s tired of this game. He tired of Flug for making all of this difficult!

_**Patience is a virtue, something you’ve forgotten to learn apparently.** _

A voice speaks to him. It didn’t sound feminine or else Black would’ve guessed it belonged to that woman. The voice was deep with a husky growl to it and echoed inside the eldritch demon’s head.

Fortunately, Black Hat knows what this is. Someone is communicating to him telepathically. He’s done it himself, many times. Unfortunately, and this seems to be becoming a thing, he doesn’t know who is contacting him.

“Who is this?” he asks. “Or are you going to play mysterious like that woman?”

_**Well to be fair, if she wanted to give you her name, she would. But she cannot. She is a silent monk, choosing to use actions rather than convey with words.** _

So she’s one of those people. Great, Black Hat thought with irritancy. “She could’ve used sign language.”

_**That she could. But allow me to shed some light on her identity, since you’re so utterly curious.** _

“If you’re mocking me-”

_**Her name is Alice.** _

Black Hat stops his mid threat.

Alice? Then that would mean… then could she be…

Gentle taps on his shoulder made the eldritch jump and turn behind him quickly.

There she stood, looking up at him thanks to her small stature. Black lips turn to give a smile while she bunches up her long dress to give a graceful bow in greeting. The voice talks again.

_**And as for where you are standing, I shall provide you that answer as well. Welcome to Wonderland.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well damn Black Hat's in a pickle huh lol.
> 
> I found this [unique harmonica solo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aq8Rh7MnRQc) and it's what I imagined Alice played in this chapter. It really fits with the setting.
> 
> And another thing, just an f.y.i., the whole Wonderland trope won't be as exact as in the stories you know. It'll in fact be my spin on it. So stay tuned :D


	7. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this quickly in the library bc I currently have no internet at home loool.
> 
> Also this time, loong chapter, but poor rough sketches. Sorry.

_…_

_There were four rulers in Wonderland._

_There was the Rose Queen of the North,_

_The Ice King of the South,_

_The Sea King of the East,_

_And the Sky King of the West._

_Red_

_White_

_Blue_

_And Gold._

_…_

_About one day prior…_

Throwing grand parties was never Monroe’s thing. As a matter of fact, she didn’t really care much for parties in general.

She didn’t like the noise and the chatter. She dislikes when space gets overcrowded and people come too close to her personal space. Her only exception would be whenever Irie likes to throw parties or goes to one. She’d participate a little, but then she would sneak off to a corner, watching from the sidelines with content smile seeing her brother have fun on his own.

Alice’s funeral then became her other exception. A year has passed and now the younger sister was setting up for another event of her passing.

Her fate had been inevitable the moment everyone escaped from that horrid facility. The damage scientists did to her body was too great. The chemicals and toxins and other unspeakables would gradually weaken her until she’d become no more. She’d die young. Alice was prepared for that day to come and knew Monroe’s healing attempts would provide little effect. Plus, she didn’t want to live through the pain and helplessness longer than she was required to. She wanted to die in peace. It was tough to swallow, but everyone that cared for her, saw her as a dear friend, mother, and/or sister, gave her that final respect.

“Madam.”

Monroe snaps out of her thoughts. She’d spent her time busying herself cleaning the long hallways of the stone castle mansion and with the aid of her magic, multiple brooms and dusters did their job while she held her own broom in two hands.

A middle-aged man walks up to her, decked in his casual button-up and faded jeans. Despite his age, he’s got a burly build and his bearded bright chestnut hair has slowly gone grayer over the years.

“What is it Walter?” the witch asks.

“I thought I advised you to take it easy. The anniversary is not but in a few days,” says Walter. “Besides, you’ve done most of the preparations; at least allow us to help you with the rest.”

The young woman huffs and eyes the old man. “Well call me foolish since I’m no expert at organizing events, but I thought it’s the host’s job to manage all the prep work. Is it not?”

“Well that’s partially true, but if they have friends or servants at their disposal then they would take advantage of it and get some rest.”

“Thanks for your consideration Walter, but I’ll rest when I feel like it. Now was there something else you wished to discuss with me?”

She continues cleaning and the old man shakes his head in defeat.

“Yes well, I’ve come to inform you that Donavan and Irie have left the mansion minutes ago.”

“What?” She turns to Walter fully with a shocked expression. “But didn’t Bud say we’re in danger of being attacked by heroes? What the devil are they doing out for?”

“Madam, you should know as well as we do that though his predictions can be accurate, if it is absolute, nothing can be done to prevent it from happening. We can only prepare ourselves for that day to come. And since the two are aware of this, trust that they’ll be on their guard.”

Monroe sighs and wipes the gathered sweat off her forehead. “Right. Absolute. I really hate that word.”

“Don’t we all?” The man pats her back. “Come. Donavan prepared some tea before leaving. What do you say?”

The witch gives a tired smile.

“You know what, tea sounds really good right now.” She magically sets down all the cleaning supplies in a neat fashion and allows Walter to lead her away from work altogether.

“By the way, I know I’ve said this like a thousand times already, but thanks for letting me use your place to host this event.”

“Nonsense Madam. Always remember that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you and your sister. If it weren’t for the two of you, us patients would’ve probably lost all sense of hope.”

“But hope was all we could provide. We weren’t the ones that freed you from your prison.”

“And what’s the point of living free if we did not have the will to do so?”

“Huh… good point.”

As the two continue walking through the manor, Monroe looks around at some of the occupants residing with them. All of them rogues and villains that were once victims of society’s research. It’s nice to see that over the years, they’ve managed to live life the best they could while also keeping a low profile. Some were even lucky enough to find life partners, either with each other or with someone they’ve crossed paths out in the world. As a result, new lives were born into the world. Walter himself found a wife and Monroe was elated to hear the news that she’d be due next month.

When Monroe sent out the invitations for the funeral, she expected about a handful of people would show up, while others would at least send wishful letters back. It’d be understandable, thinking most would rather want to leave the past behind them. She should’ve listened to Irie when he said that wouldn’t be the case. Having nearly every ex-patient arrive that day threw the woman off course as she wasn’t nearly as prepared as she had thought and had to use a lot of her magic to accommodate them all in her small cabin. The major changes she had to make would’ve driven the woman insane had Donavan, Bud, and Irie not been there to help her.

But the amount of support was nice.

“This probably isn’t my place to ask,” Walter says suddenly. They were in one of the lounging areas, the two of them sitting comfortably with a cup of tea in hand. “But I was just wondering… have you heard anything from Adam recently?”

Monroe’s face twisted in a way that pretty much gave Walter the answer he needed. She glares at the inside of her cup.

“Not a goddamn thing.”

“I see. When was the last time you two made contact.”

“Years ago,” she stated dryly. “Never seen or heard from him since. Don’t even know where he is now.”

Her words surprised him. “Yet… you sent him the letters?”

Monroe reclines heavily on the couch’s backrest. “Those were just shots in the dark to be honest. I did this thing where you can send someone messages via soul link with an item they’ve long since possessed. Depending on how long the person’s held onto said item, the process can work more efficiently. I’ve done this with him a few times in the past, but since he moved away and never came back, I didn’t have much to work with. He might’ve never gotten those letters.”

“And doesn’t that worry you Madam?”

She pauses mid-sip, thinking the question over before saying, “Adam tends to blame himself for a lot of things, mainly the facility we were imprisoned in that was run by his father. Sure he bailed us all out, but he had a reason for it. That reason was Alice. It was technically me too, since I was there when… when they were…”

Walter instantly sets his cup down and reaches to gently take the woman’s hand his slightly larger ones.

“You’re trembling Madam. You don’t have to speak of it.”  

She nods and proceeds to take even breaths. She slowly takes her hand back, but it was clenched in a tight fist and Walter takes note of her guilty expression.

“The look on his face when I told him what happened… to this day, I still hate myself for doing that to him, for making him think that everything his father did weighs on his shoulders as well. I can’t tell you what he was thinking when he saved us that day… but I can bet you he did it out of guilt, that it was his obligation to make it end. And then hearing that Alice won’t have much time left…

“My point is that though he has every right to know about this… I also wish those letters never reach him.”

“I… I see.” Walter takes the time to process this. The incident between Monroe and Alice was shared by few among the other patients, himself being one of them. The deaths and the explosion Adam rained in could’ve been anyone’s guess as to why. Many thought him as their hero. Walter had suspected his reasons had something to do with guilt or hate and after hearing the girl’s story, he felt his theories were proven. But this is the first time he’s ever been told of the events that led to their freedom.

“I’m sorry if I disappointed you in some way,” he hears her say. “I’m sure many others would.”

“I assure you, you did not my dear. In fact, it makes all the more sense now that you’ve explained it.”

It’s as if a burden has lifted and she could finally relax again. She rests her head on the man’s shoulder.

“Thank you for listening Walter.”

“I always have and I always will Madam.”

_Minutes prior…_

“So what you doing out Maybelline?” Irie asks the hitman beside him as the two trek side by side down the mansion’s stairway. 

“Errands,” Donavan states simply. “We’ve run low on ingredients, so I’m off to resupply.”

The fish man snorts and cites with dramatic urgency, “The inner chef has returned with a vengeance. He has already taken over the house owner’s kitchen.”

“You’re right. And now that I have authority, I can choose to make you starve for the whole day.”

“Dude. Dat’s cold Maybelline.”

“It’s what I prefer. So I’m guessing you’re off to explore the ruins around here?”

“You bet! Europe is like one big giant museum out in the open. Always love coming here! I’ll be sure to bring back a souvenir for ya, okay?”

“So long as the souvenir doesn’t have teeth, do what you want… huh?”

“What’s it?”

“Looks like another guest has arrived.”

There was a cab car parked in front of the steps and a butler was already there removing the guest’s luggage from the trunk. The guest had stepped out the vehicle to quickly assist. His head was shrouded by a navy blue hood, dark goggles placed over his eyes while the bottom half of his face hid behind a black clothed facemask. 

“You know who dat is?” Irie asks Donavan, lowering his voice unnecessarily since the guest wouldn’t be able to hear them from this distance. The male hasn’t even noticed them yet.

“…Not sure.” Donavan unconsciously does the same.

“He does look familiar tho. Almost as if he’s-”

“He could be anybody under that getup,” the older man cuts him off. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

“I know but-”

Suddenly, the two were spooked as Bud emerges from Donavan’s shadow and leaps down the rest of the stairway, towards the guest in question. The young man never suspected him coming and was tackled to the ground by the large wolf.

Well this was new. The behavior wasn’t hostile. Heck, the creature was smothering the poor man’s face with saliva. But never have either of them seen the demon wolf act this way with any of the guests that arrived.

“Bud… Buddy stop! No more please I’m sorry okay?!” The man laughs through the torture and shoves the wolf far enough away for him to sit up. The hood had fallen to unveil bright brown locks, his googles askew enough to show hazel eyes, and facemask pulled downwards to reveal scars. Unaware of his face exposed, the man goes on his knees to hug the wolf’s furry body.

“It’s good to see you again Buddy. I missed you.”

Bud gives a low rumble in response.

“BROSKI!!!”

“Huh? Irie-AAH!”

The demon dodges out of the way in time for Irie to tackle the guest next. They were a pile of limbs on the floor as fish man headlocks and noogies his head. The guest squirms in an attempt to escape.

“Ya got a lotta nerve disappearing without sayin nothing ya bozo!”

“I-I couldn’t help it to be honest!”

“Kid?”

The two stop their childish wresting to face Donavan, standing before them with eyes trying to believe what he’s seeing. Adam doesn’t blame him. He couldn’t blame any of them for their reactions. He hid away from them for over five years.

“Yeah, it’s me. S-Sorry I’ve been gone for so long.”

Donavan shakes his head. His usual frown lifts to smile at him.

“I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to, but it’s good to have you back.”

“Oh yeah. Monroe is going to flip her marbles… in a good way.” Irie adds once seeing Adam’s fearful expression. The treasure hunter stands and lifts the other up with him. He then pats his back, grinning. “Welp, no time like the present. Let’s go.”

Adam nods tentatively and allows to be led inside the huge building. He fully removes the goggles and facemask, finding them on to be pointless now that he’s here.

_Meanwhile at the lounge…_

“SISITA!”

Irie barges in, disrupting the quiet and starling Monroe and Walter.

“Get yo hiney up and come quick!”

The witch stands warily. “Are we under attack?”

“Nope. Betta. Now come on!”

“Hey!” Monroe shouts as she gets dragged out the room by her overly-enthusiastic brother.

“Will you slow down? What’s going on?”

“You’ll see!”

Monroe was taken to the entrance hall where a crowd of people stood. Many looked like they’d just risen out of bed since the day was still early. Irie had to push passed them to get to the center of the attention. Monroe stopped dead in her tracks.

And stared disbelievingly.

Adam Vivas looked to be a bit overwhelmed by the amount of faces he thought he’d never see again and how much they all greeted him eagerly. And when he spots Monroe, he freezes.

The ex-patients assess the situation and created space between them, but Adam just felt more exposed and in the spotlight. Thankfully, Donavan and Irie remained inside the circle with them.

Monroe steps forward, slowly, towards the man that disappeared from her life without a word. When close enough, she stops, but doesn’t say anything for another minute. The heavy silence becomes too much for Adam’s psyche and so he attempts to speak first.

“U-Um… he-”

_*slap*_

 Many faces wince as the woman palms him hard across the face. But it was expected, for multiple reasons. She probably would’ve done worse.

“You jerk…”

That sick wave of guilt begins to wash over him again. He knew she’d be mad. Not only did he miss the funeral, but in Irie, Donavan, and Monroe’s perspective, he basically abandoned them for close to six years.

He’d like to say it wasn’t his fault, but he did stupidly sign a permanent contract with the most evil villain known to mankind. He’s only lucky to be allowed to come here.

It’s his fault. All his fault, like always. It’s his fault all these people suffered.

It’s his fault Alice died.

The remnants of Monroe’s composure fell and she throws her arms tightly around Adam, her sobs quiet.

“I thought something happened to you… something terrible, and we’d never know.”

Adam, taken how angry she looked, did not expect this. It confused him and he couldn’t figure out how to respond properly.

“You… you’re not mad at me? But I didn’t come last year. I-I knew about it, b-b-but I couldn’t-”

“Shut up you idiot.” She speaks into his sweater, fighting more tears from flowing at his words. God he’s such an idiot. “Alice wouldn’t care if you didn’t show your face at her funeral. I didn’t give a solid crap either. Honestly, all I could ever think about was whether or not you’re alive and okay.”

She pulls away. Her eyes became red and puffy, but she smiles happily up at her dear friend and brother.

“You really haven’t changed at all, have you? Still the meek stuttering moron I met back at the research facility. It’s good to see you again Adam.”

Adam tries to speak, but words were apparently difficult now. He had been prepared for resentment and got the exact opposite.

“I… I really am sorry you know.” He could at least say this.

“I know Adam.”

A boisterous laugh emerges from the crowd as Walter makes his way through with his wife beside him.

“Well well, and here we all thought we’d never again see the golden one! You’ve given us quite the surprise!”

Adam’s eyes were saucers. “W-Walter? My god… you’re huge!”

“And you’re still a scrawny twig! Come’ere you-”

The older man wraps an arm around him and ruffles his head, enjoying the laughs that came with it.

“Adam, I’d like you to meet my wife, Fenella.”

“You’re _married?!_ ”

“He sure is,” the wife speaks. Her short hair was curly and bounces whenever she moves. She has to move carefully though due to the massive mound that’s her stomach. “You’d be surprised at how many victims here were able to settle down and have families. I for one am happy Walter came into my life and he says it never would’ve been possible if it weren’t for you.”

She takes Adam’s hand into both of hers. “It’s nice we get to meet so I can finally thank you.”

“O-Oh t-t-there’s really no need. R-Really!” he stammers. “A-And I wish you luck with the baby.”

Irie leans to whisper. “Dude she’s having twins.”

“Babies I mean!” Adam shouts his mistake, face tomato red and Irie tries to regain his breath from laughing. The action got a laugh out of Fanella and Walter as well.

“This moment must be celebrated! Donavan!” Walter calls the hitman. “Tell my waiters to bust out all the liquor in my cellar! As for today’s course, I’ll leave that decision to you.”

The hitman gives a thumbs up, glasses glinted bright with determination as he strides off to do his task.

“W-Wait!” Adam stops the middle-aged man. “I thought we’re all here on behalf of Alice!”

“Technically yes, but we’ve also made this a reunion in a way,” Monroe says, shrugging. “You know, to make it less sad. Plus the ceremony won’t start till the end of this week and time after that will be just us catching up and stuff.”

“And as a final verdict, this is my house and what I say goes,” Walter adds. “So if I say we celebrate your return, we shall celebrate!”

The others holler and cheer in support and Adam could see he is fighting a losing battle. In his mind, as he is led by Walter to where their party will take place, Adam decides to later speak with Monroe and the others privately. They deserve the right to know the life he led during his absence.

How will they react once they know he’s Dr. Flug, the scientist seen in ad commercials who mostly gets tossed around by his boss, the evil Black Hat? He’s uncertain of how Donavan and Irie would take it, but Monroe… she’ll be outright furious.

Monroe doesn’t really hate Black Hat. He is actually one of her idols. But she is also very wary of him and always warned Adam to never get involved with him. Where she’s from, the eldritch is considered a bad omen and for good reason. Nothing good happens when he crosses your way.

Flug knows that all too well now.

Gosh, if she’s not gonna be mad at him for missing her sister’s funeral, then she’ll definitely kill him for this.

…

_Present day…_

Once upon a time, Captain Pyreman would rarely use this place. This… confined area of his secret base. He’d only use it to temporarily secure criminals he’s captured until the police would arrive and take charge.

Nowadays, these cells are used more often. Thanks to his other line of work.

Captain Pyreman sighs as he flicks the blood and pieces of flesh off his fingers. He credits himself for remembering to remove his gloves beforehand. The stains are tasking to wash off.

He eyes shift to his victim. A man lays huddled on the floor, clothes singed through and skin burnt off in various places. Muscles and tissue look black and charred as if he’d been put on the grill for too long. Through the torture, the poor man’s broken screams were reduced to sobs and whimpers. Pyreman clicks his tongue.

“It looks like you can’t summon your shields anymore, huh rogue?”

Through his sobs, the man wheezes out, “P-Please… I… I already told you everything I know!”

“Would you bet your life on that?” Pyreman summons his flames on one hand.

“PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD THAT’S ALL I KNOW!

“Hmm,” the hero taps his chin in thought. He then shrugs, looking disappointed that his fun was ruined. “I guess this will do for now. You revealing Alice’s… ‘rulers’ as you’ve said, was all you were good for anyway. At least they’ll know who to blame once we’ve captured them.”

Pyreman casually makes his way out the prison cell, but not without picking up the rogue’s faint words. Say,

“I hope… those kids b-become… n-nothing like you… you bastard.”

Pyreman turns his head slowly and flashes a wide grin.

“My advice, you should be hoping, _praying_ , that I let you live another day.”

…

Demencia and 5.0.5, didn’t know Black Hat for very long compared to Dr. Flug. But they do know him well enough to pick up changes in usual behavior. Needless to say, they thought their boss had been acting strange before, but now they are sure he’s gone downright bonkers. And that says a lot, because Black Hat isn’t a stranger of making odd requests and/or near impossible assignments. It’s part of his mysterious charm and part of who he is.

But Black Hat is also evil, the most notorious villain well known to almost all walks of life. Everything he does would only be a reminder of that important fact.

Which is why both Demencia and 5.0.5 were practically stumped out of their minds to hear right from the eldritch himself, that they were to do a rescue mission.

A RESCUE MISSION. And it’s a villain they’ve never met personally. He is an infamously known treasure hunter and thief and apparently he’s being hunted by the government. Demencia and 5.0.5. were assigned to prevent him from being captured.

When Demencia dared to ask why they were doing this at all, the eldritch gave her a look that made her shut up for the entire trip in Black Hat’s private jet until they arrived at their destination.

“Remember my instructions. Meet me at the location I’ve given you when you’re done. And be absolutely sure no one follows you as you get there. Is that understood?”

“Aroo.” The bear nods in affirmative.

“Rescue this Sea Devil guy and basically play bodyguards as we meet up with you, not that much of a challenge.” The female assassin winks. “We got this!”

“Good, because I don’t expect failure.” And with that, the demon traverses out of sight. He had his own task to fulfill as well, that much they knew.

Once she’s sure he was gone, Demencia lets out a heavy breath. “I’m really getting worried you know? This isn’t like him at all.”

5.0.5. makes a gentle grunt of agreement as the two leave the private runway.

“Look, I know villains aren’t supposed to be caring and they don’t do the ‘talk about feelings’ and stuff,” she continues on. “But… I dunno, I just wish Black Hat could open up to us a little. At least tell us what he’s thinking, since whatever it is seems to be bothering him a lot. And I think that something is making him do things that don’t make any sense.”

“Arrrrwl,” the bear says and Dememcia looks to him.

“Huh? You think Flug might be part of reason?” She taps her chin in thought. “Hm, well Black Hat did let him go for three weeks, the longest break he’s ever given him. Perhaps he’s trying to adjust to that?”

Speaking of the scientist, the girl hopes he’s doing alright. Maybe when he returns, things will become normal again and Black will return to his diabolical self. They’ll just have to wait and see.

It’s going to be a long three weeks.

…

Black Hat reappears on top of a building, towering over most of the European city. The sun rising from the ocean’s horizon indicates it’s still morning. Black Hat eyes the city’s architectural structure and it only serves a reminder of his purpose here like a sour aftertaste. He thinks back to the conversation he had with the telepathic voice.

.

.

…

**_This connection won’t last long so I’ll make it quick._ **

**_First off, to settle this confusion once and for all, yes, your scientist and the boy, Adam Vivas, are indeed the same exact person._ **

**_That being said, your scientist is also in danger._ **

**_Dr. Flug has managed to sever any connection he had with his first identity, harboring multiple others. But that won’t help him this time._ **

“What do you mean?”

**_Answering that will take too long to explain and I am slowly draining energy, but know this,_ **

**_Without your cooperation, your scientist’s future will only end in death. So it’s up to you whether or not you value his life, but I would need an answer right this moment._ **

“What?!”

**_Today Black Hat._ **

“Of course I value his pathetic life, and I will annihilate anyone who seeks to ruin my main cash cow!”

**_Alice, do you find his words acceptable? You do hold a say in this after all._ **

The woman nods her head.

**_Very well then. I will need you and your two employers to leave for Europe immediately. Alice will provide further details once you wake from this sequence. And any further questions you may have, she will choose whether or not to answer them._ **

**_Until we meet._ **

.

.

…

And as promised, once he awoke in his room, Alice was there, sitting cross-legged at the foot of his grand mattress.

She signed him what was apparently going to happen by the time they arrive. There will be heroes assigned to target four villains. One of them is Adam, but thankfully the heroes haven’t discovered his current identity yet, so he would be safe for now.

Her main concern was two of the three other targets and requested he and his employers aid them once they get attacked.

Black Hat had to scowl at the ghost and ask why he should go out of his way to waste his efforts on them.

_“You remember what Flug said to you the day before, right?” she signed to him, unperturbed by his outburst. “You’ve also discovered what he had lost as a child. These two are his family Black Hat. Losing me was more than what he could take already.”_

That had to be the only valid reason why he agreed to do this. If Flug had important people in his life that would make him act the way he did when losing them a year ago, then nothing is worth the risk of something like that happening again.

**_You’ve arrived. Good._ **

**_You are close to me and my partner’s position, but I feel I must give you a fair warning before you jump into action._ **

**_The hero sent to capture us is young but dangerous. Not only is he a demon hunter, but he wields a weapon made specifically to kill all creatures dark and vile. That includes you. I’m sure you recall the name of these types of weapons._ **

“Tch. I thought I destroyed all of those.”

**_It would seem you’ve missed a few._ **

Fantastic. Looks like he’ll have to fix that.

Flug owes him big for this.

…

Adam’s sudden arrival yesterday sure was unexpected. The welcoming party that lasted throughout the entire day was also never planned. But it was enjoyable.

It’s been a while since Donavan last cooked for anyone (the kids he took care of in the facility are all adults now and old enough to feed themselves) and this opportunity, much like in Alice’s funeral, is something he never takes for granted.

Sadly, the party nearly depleted all food and ingredients in the household. So today, nothing will stand in his way from doing grocery shopping.

Not even that damned hero out to detain him. 

He brought a truck and a few of Walter’s servants to assist him this time since the list of items needed have tripled. He made sure the process was quick as possible as they drove out the mansion, across the green lands and into the city. There, they gathered what they needed from the market venues. So far, things have gone well without trouble.

Until he sensed someone following them.

As part of the contract he’s made with Bud, the demon injected him with a number of his abilities, such as heightened senses. As a hitman, this helped with locating enemy targets and plan ahead if enemies try any surprise attacks.

What’s troubling though is the interference he feels with his dark magic.

“We’re all ready to go Master Donavan,” one of the servants calls to him.

“You all go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

“A-Are you sure?”

“I know my way back. Now go.”

The servant picks up the urgency in Donavan’s voice and proceeds to rally up the last of the workers into the truck before taking off. Donavan watches them go with a sigh of relief.

These parts of the streets were empty, so anything could happen in this encounter. Donavan doesn’t reach for his gun yet, tucked in the back of his pants. Backup firearms and ammunitions are kept with Bud.

“Must’ve went through a lot of trouble to find me, eh kiddo?” he call in the direction he knows hero is hiding. He didn’t have to wait long to hear footsteps come his direction until a young boy makes himself known.

“Well, so long as you uphold the right information, it’s no trouble at all,” the blond boy says with an outgoing smile.

Donavan furrows his brows. “So what are you, a newbie?”

“Fresh out of graduation! You may call me Arthur. Usually graduates like myself are placed in lesser assignments before hitting more important ones, but the higher-ups called for my assistance in this one.”

“Because you possess a Heaven’s Item?” The hitman eyes the glowing sword on Arthur’s back.

“Oh, so you know about them.” The boy reaches for the handle and draws out the weapon. Markings decorate the blade and Donavan feels himself take a step back at waves of light magic flowing from it. He could hear Bud’s growls in his shadow.

“Long ago, my ancestors fought valiantly with these weapons… until they were wiped out,” Arthur continues. “There are very few of these left as a result, but luckily they were well hidden. And now I have been chosen as their guardian and protector, while at the same time carry on the family legacy to wipe out all demons who wish to disrupt the peace of mankind.

“But that’s enough about me! I’m mainly here to talk about you Acuto… or should I call you Dr. Donavan May instead? You used to be a scientist of what was supposed to be a psychiatric hospital.”

“Intern specifically, but science is no longer my thing. Equations give me too much of a headache.”

“So that’s no good either then.” Arthur fakes disappointment, making the hitman wonder what he’s plotting. His hand inches closer for his gun. It’s against his morals to kill youngsters. If things get too rough, he’ll have to disarm Arthur in whatever ways possible.

“There is another name patients used to call you then, isn’t that right?”

Wait. What?

“What was it again…” Arthur scratches his head, pretending he has forgotten. At this, Donavan starts to sweat.

There’s no way… there’s no way he could possibly-

“I remember now! They called you…” And the boy smiles wide as he says what Donavan fears.

“The White King. But that’s not all, is there? There are three others.”

Arthur holds up three fingers. “There is Dr. Salem, aka Monroe Hivegarden, The Red Queen. There is the Sea Devil, aka Irie Walker, The Blue King. And lastly… Adam Vivas, The Gold King.”

…Last night, before everyone agreed it was time to retire to bed, another guest arrived.

She was the lover of an ex-patient-now-rogue named Leo Sanchez and stated he had been missing for weeks. Try as she may, she could not find him. She hoped that by coming here, someone might know something, only to break into sobs when no one could offer anything. Adam knew Leo well and was at her side instantly, caring for her and promising they’d do what they can to find him.

There’s no way the heroes agency system could know as much as this boy was spouting. The scientists that ran Project: ALICE were never successful at fully acquiring information about how the artifact operates. And they know little to nothing about Alice letting others use it.

Donavan pulls out his gun and aims it at Arthur’s smile.

“Where is he? Where’s Leo?!” he barks furiously.

“You mean the patient? He is detained under orders of the DHJ,” Arthur answers without qualms. “And since he technically labels as a rogue, they are currently deciding what to do with him. He has done a number of illegal crimes over the years or else they would’ve easily offered him a job as a hero or a sidekick.”

“That man was a victim! He’s gone through enough thanks to your cancerous system!”

“The government and the DHJ was never involved in the facility’s operations, so you can’t point the blame at us,” the knight states firmly. “Also, Leo may be a criminal but as you’ve said, he was a victim of unfair cruelty. He might be given a second chance.”

Donavan gives a repulsed look. “You truly believe that?”

“I do. I don’t want to fight you Acuto. I actually think you’re not as bad of a man as other heroes have labeled you. I can’t say the same for your demon friend though. But if you turn yourself in peacefully, your sentences for your crimes might be less severe. And who knows? Maybe in the future, you can offer yourself to do good and the authorities will allow it. It’s still not too late for you.”

…

“… Here’s the thing kid, and let me offer you some advice.” Donavan grips the handle of his firearm and eyes the young hero heatedly to convey his message. “I know the system. I know it twists and turns, its nooks and crannies, the deep dark corners they’ve kept hidden from innocents like you. It’s corrupt. And the more you continue to let them treat you like a puppet on strings, the more that corruption will consume you. It’s already consumed a number of heroes and nowadays, the safest life to lead is the life of a rogue or a villain.

“That may not be what you like to hear and you may not want to believe me, but that’s just how the world is. And I’m not going to make decisions for you ‘cause you’re old enough to do that yourself. But I would rather die fighting than turn myself in peacefully to a hell the higher-ups created. So you’re gonna have to force me to surrender.”

“Is… that so,” Arthur says, gripping his sword tightly. His blue eyes show confliction, but that vanishes quickly and he assumes his stance for battle.

“Alright then. As you wish.”

…

Irie drains the water off his dreads as best he could while taking his trip back to Walter’s estate. He had taken a deep dive into the nearby ocean to collect pearls and he’s gathered a bunch in different bright and beautiful colors in a small sack. Hopefully Leo’s lover will appreciate them. They’re good for jewelry and she could make lots of money off these.

He follows a path alongside a river stream through the dense trees and it was there he nearly got hit by an arrow. He jumps back as it stabs the ground in front of him.

Alert, Irie whips around, trying to locate the source of the attack, but the trees were too thick to spot anyone. Meanwhile, he summons his shark tooth spear from his necklace in case another surprise arrow comes his way.

“Sea Devil.”

He jumps at the voice and looks back in front of him. A young person in black stands behind the arrow on the ground, wearing the mask of an owl.  In one hand, he holds a bow.

“By the orders of the Department of Heroic Justice, you are to be detained now. Surrender yourself or I shall take you by force.” He says this but already reaches behind his back for another arrow.

“Woahwoahwoahwoah, hold it there bud!” Irie raises his hands in alarm.

The owl person stops. “So you surrender?”

“What? No! I’m just saying you’re going about this all wrong! Look, you’re a newbie aren’t’cha?”

“…Yes.”

“First off, if you’re going to ask someone to surrender, at least give them the time to answer instead of just jumping into attack mode. It’s rude and unethical in hero code.”

“Hero… code?”

“Second, every new hero or villain starting out must introduce themselves. I mean, how are ya going to get credit for anything if not even I know who ya are? Ya get me?”

“…”

“So are ya gonna tell me ya name or not?”

“…Night Owl.”

“Nice ta meet’cha Night Owl! See? Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“…”

“So what am I under arrest for?”

Night Owl snaps into focus and clears his throat. “Right. You are being filed as potential threat. Sources provided that during your time as a patient in an illegal research facility, you came in contact with a powerful item possessed by a woman name Alice. Sources also provided that… HEY!”

Irie jolts awake. “Wuh? Oh sorry. Your robotic speech must’ve bored me to sleep. Look like we’ll have to work on that too.”

“Enough of this.” The young hero pulls out another arrow and readies it at the Sea Devil.

“Irie Walker, either you come with me now, or I’ll shoot you on the spot. This is your last warning.”

…

“…Alright. Any lead is fine… Okay. Great. Again, thanks for the help… Bye.” Monroe puts down the phone, ending the call.

“What did she say?” Leo’s lover, who goes by the name Risa Reyes, asks worriedly, clenching used tissues.

“Wendy says she’ll do what she can, which is more than enough. She’s one of the best after all, so well get updates from her soon.”

Monroe was not prepared for the woman to hug her tightly and be bombarded with teary thank yous. To the witch’s relief, Adam was there to gently pull her off.

“It’ll be aright Ms. Reyes. M-Might I suggest you get some rest?”

“He’s right dear,” Fanella was also there as company and takes Risa’s hand. “Come. Something warm to drink should soothe your troubles momentarily.”

As the two women leave, Monroe raises her arms to stretch her stiff limbs. She give a satisfied sound when some joints popped into place.

“Geeze. I was not expecting any of this to happen,” she says tiredly. “Just three weeks of peace and relaxation. Away from villainy stuff, away from heroes and the authorities, away from the world in general. Should’ve known that was too much to ask for.”

“I-I wouldn’t say that!” Adam rebuttals. “Everyone deserves some time off a-and nothing should stop you from having it.”

“Hm. I guess you’re right.” She grins and elbows his arm.

“Some good things did come out of these onslaughts of surprises, so I probably shouldn’t complain.”

The scientist laughs nervously as he rubs the dull spot. It looks like now is a better time than ever. He takes a breath.

“Um, Monroe? I-Is it okay if we talk?”

“Sure. What about?”

“It’s… about why I vanished for so long.”

“Oh. Well, I’m listening.”

Adam nods. “S-So you know about those villain ads on television… the one that markets weapons?”

“You know I don’t watch much television… but now that you mention it, I do recall Irie telling me Black Hat’s doing something like that now. Some poor scientist got forced to do his bidding. Anyway what about it?”

The complexion of his skin turns white and Adam forces himself to continue.

“R-R-Right well uh, the t-thing is… I… I-I’m actually-”

A static-like screech suddenly erupts and the two had to cover their ears at the unpleasant sound. It was so loud, the sound could fill the entire mansion. It felt like an eternity before the noise finally stopped.

“What the bloody hell was that?!” the witch had to shout to make sure she could still hear her own voice.

“I-I don’t know! T-That sounded like an electrical current!”

“From where?”

“Madam!” Walter dashes up to them, expression apprehensive. “You need to have a look at this.”

He gestures to the window near them. The move toward it while carefully making sure they aren’t visibly exposed to the outside as the man pulls the curtains slightly aside.

Tank machines line the front of the estate, but they were designed to take the theme of cute animals, the type you’d find in a teenage girl’s bedroom filled with stuffed toys. One of the tanks had large speakers attached to it, the source of the noise they heard.

Standing between them is a girl in a mech-like suit and roller skates. One robotic hand holds a microphone and with it she speaks,

“ATTENTION ALL VILLIANS AND ROGUES. YOU MAY GO ABOUT YOUR DAY, BUT NOT UNTIL DR. SALEM REVEALS HERSELF OUTSIDE. BUY ORDERS OF THE DHJ YOU’VE BEEN PLACED UNDER ARREST AND MUST BE APREHENDED IMMEDIATELY. REFUSING TO DO SO WILL RESULT TO DIRE CONCEQUENCES.”

“She can’t mean she’s gonna blast this building with those tanks is she?” Adam asks with terror. “There are children in here!”

“Shall I call forth the golems so they can deal with her Madam?” Walter says.

Monroe eyes the field. “No. Not yet. I say we play along first.”

“B-But that means you putting yourself out there!”

“Adam is right. Are you sure that’s wise?”

“Attacking right away will put others in danger. Let’s be sure everyone is at a safe place in the mansion before taking that step. Besides, she asked for me, did she not?” The witch snaps her fingers, and her casual outfit transforms into her signature villain costume. Underneath the brim of her hat, she displays a wide manic grin.

“I’d like to hear what the little girl wants.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll check later for errors and mistakes.  
> Let me know if you like this story thus far with kudos and comments~
> 
> Also, I opened my ask box on [Tumblr](http://keepingvisions.tumblr.com/) so if you want to know anything about this fic, my ocs, me, (or anything else really) just ask and I'll answer when I am able to!!

**Author's Note:**

> *hides behind protective fort* More will come soon!


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